The Innocent
by Dublin O'Malley
Summary: There hasn't been an end to the beatings Dean's received his whole life. His boyfriend Sam isn't making it any better. When one beating too many takes him to the hospital, he meets the one thing that may make it all right. Full sum inside.
1. A Promise Means Never

**Full Summary:  
>There hasn't been an end to the beatings Dean's received his whole life. From age 4 to age 25, he's been terrified of men and terrified of getting close to others. When one beating too many takes him to the hospital, he meets the one things that may make it all right. Dean would call it love at first sight, but there's a complication. Read to find out.<strong>

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><p><strong>The Innocent<strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: A Promise Means Never<strong>

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><p>"You can't even cook a fucking steak right!" Sam yelled, hurling the plate towards Dean's head. Dean ducked just before it shattered into a million pieces on the wall behind him, ceramic and food raining down on him. He whimpered and covered his head with his hands, wishing he could melt into the floor.<p>

How could he have messed up again? It was his entire fault. He ruined everything he touched. That's what Sam told him, and Dean believed him.

"Say something, bitch!" Sam screamed. He was drunk and Dean knew it, which only furthered his terror. When Sam was drunk, he would hit him. And kick him. Dean cowered as Sam loomed over him.

"I-I'm sorry!" Dean stuttered. He felt a hand on his head and he was suddenly being yanked to his feet by his hair. He whimpered but made no other sounds, that would only make Sam angrier. He flinched as Sam raised his fist, and then brought it down, connecting sloppily, but violently with Dean's cheek. Dean cried out from the blow and tried to shield his face.

He'd never known what he was in for when he'd started dating Sam. He'd seemed so nice, so caring, so understanding. After being in a relationship with Sam for less than three weeks, Dean realized his couldn't have been more wrong. Sam wasn't always angry, but Dean always was careful to walk on eggshells around him. He'd been to the hospital twice because of Sam, but he never left. He was terrified of what Sam would do if he tried to break up with him.

Sam knocked Dean's hands away and rushed forward, turning Dean and slamming him against the wall, crushing him under his weight.

"I'd tell you to make it again," Sam growled low in Dean's ear, causing him to shudder in fear. "But you'd probably fuck that up too. Just like everything else you do." Dean heard the sound of Sam unbuckling his jeans and squirmed, trying to find a way out of Sam's grasp.

"Oh no, you're not getting away that easily. You're going to let me fuck you," Sam snarled, yanking Dean's hair again. Dean cried out and saw stars as Sam slammed his face back into the wall.

He felt his loose sweatpants being pulled down and whined, biting his lower lip to stop the tears he felt were about to fall. If he cried, Sam would hit him again; he didn't want to be hit.

Sam's hardened tip was guiding along his entrance and Dean tensed, terrified.

Terrified.

He was always terrified. Terrified of Sam. Terrified of what he would do to him. Terrified of other men, scared of any type of contact. He flinched away from handshakes and congratulatory pats on the shoulder. He kept finding it harder and harder to hide the bruises at work, harder to ignore the pain. Another employee at the coffee shop, Gabriel, was getting concerned, Dean could tell. He would ask him questions about the bruises on his face.

They also went to the same gym together and Gabriel would question him about the scratched and cuts on his back. Dean would come up with a cover story and leave early, wandering around until his required time to be home rolled around. If he walked in the door one second later than 4:00, he was in big trouble with Sam.

Sam surged forward and Dean screamed. With no preparation, the pain was excruciating. He cried out again as Sam pulled back, then slammed back inside him. He couldn't hold back the tears any longer and they spilled down his cheeks, stinging the cut Sam had given him earlier for emptying the wastebasket at 6:50 instead of 6:45, like he was supposed to.

"Stop your crying, whore. Enjoy it," Sam commanded and Dean tried to stifle his tears, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. It ran down his chin and mingled with his tears on the kitchen floor.

Minutes later, Sam came deep inside him, increasing the pain. He released Dean and let the older male fall to the floor in a shuddering mess or blood and tears.

Sam pulled his pants back up and glanced at the clock. "I'm going to bed. This kitchen better be clean when I wake up tomorrow. Clean yourself up, you look like a slut." And with that, Sam walked down the hallway and into the bedroom they shared. But Dean rarely slept at all, with Sam asking him to move over, crowding the entire bed with his large frame and nearly sending Dean to the floor.

Most night, Dean slept on the couch and made sure to have his make-shift bed put away before 3:00 A.M., when Sam woke.

Dean curled into a ball and sobbed, wishing he could disappear entirely and rid himself of the guilt for upsetting Sam again.

"I'm going to work," Dean said quietly from the doorway to Sam's study. He was already dressed in his barista apron, emblasoned with the Cup O' Bliss logo. He stood exactly three inches away from the doorway, just like Sam had instructed and now expected him to.

Sam only grunted in response and continued working on his papers.

Dean took that as his dismissal.

Dean had to walk from their small New York apartment to the coffee shop, nearly four miles, because Sam never let Dean use the car. It was strictly forbidden because Sam believed Dean wasn't competent enough to drive. Sam reminded Dean of his father, John.

John used to beat him just like Sam. But the beatings only got worse when Dean's mom died, leaving Dean with no protection. He'd like to say he hated his mother for leaving him all alone, with no one to cling to. But that wasn't the case. His mother had died after being brutally beaten by his father. He'd watched helplessly, only six years old.

His older brother, Jensen, had passed away from stomach cancer. He'd looked up to Jensen and strived to be like him, aside from being a homosexual.

Jensen had been kind and understanding when Dean came out to him. He'd comforted Dean as he'd sobbed, the younger brother only just having turned fifteen, was helpless and unsure of what to do, how to deal with it.

'Shh, it's all right. I've got you,' Jensen had said, holding his little brother.

'Please, please, don't tell dad. He'll only hit me harder,' Dean had pleaded, shaking from the fear.

'I won't let him touch you. As long as I'm around, he won't lay a hand on you,' Jensen had promised.

And then he died, taking away the one thing in Dean's life that had been good. Dean kept telling himself it was his fault. After all, that's what John told him. And just like with Sam, Dean believed him.

Dean hugged his small coat around his shoulders, his old one from last year because Sam wouldn't buy him a new one until this one was in shreds. And even then, it would be a long wait. The chilly December air seeped into Dean's bones. He rubbed his arms and blew into his hands.

A light snow was falling, dusting everything in white. Dean would have thought it was pretty, but he didn't really know what the word meant. He was always belittled. Only once in his life had he met someone other than his mother or Jensen who would compliment him with words that weren't heavily laden with sarcasm.

He'd been fourteen.

_**FLASHBACK**_

_He was at the dance studio, the only place he felt safe and secure. His father thought he was at the library, studying to keep up his straight A's._

_Dean flew gracefully across the floor, the toes of his dance shoes barely brushing the hardwood floor. Dean slid into an innate split, his big finish, and then leaned forward and onto his hands, lifting his legs completely off the ground to swing slowly upward, until they were fully parallel with the floor. Dean lifted one hand then flipped, landing smoothly on his feet. He raised his arms then bowed to his reflection. _

_He used the hem of his T-shirt to wipe the sweat from his face and reached for his water bottle. _

_It was then he noticed the older man standing in the doorway, his arms hanging limply at his sides, his face frozen in amazement. _

"_That was amazing, young man. There are very few people who can complete that without injuring themselves." _

_Dean stood stock still, feeling the instinctive fear crawl up his spine. The man took a step forward and Dean took a step back, his back hitting the mirrors that lined the walls. _

_The stranger held his hands up in surrender. "Sorry, didn't mean to barge in on you. I come here every day at five. My name is Michael." He held out a hand and Dean realized he expected him to shake it. Dean just stared at the offered hand. _

"_Did you say it's five o' clock?" Dean asked, panicking. Michael nodded. "Oh no, oh no." Dean hurriedly picked up his brother's old jacket that was draped over one of the bars. _

"_What's the matter, son?" Michael asked. _

"_I have to get home. My dad, he'll-" Dean's voice broke as he realised it was too late, he was fifteen minutes late. _

_Michael cocked his head to the side. "Your father will what?"_

_Dean averted his watering eyes. "I can't tell you." Dean tried to push past Michael, but the bigger man grabbed Dean's arm._

_He bent down to Dean's height and looked him in the eyes. "Your father will what?" he repeated slowly. _

_Dean whispered, "He'll beat me." Dean heard Michael suck in a breath and he immediately thought the worst. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you angry!" Dean exclaimed, stumbling away from Michael. _

_Michael looked down at Dean, who was now cowering against the glass, shaking uncontrollably. It was then that he noticed the fading and fresh bruises on the smaller boys face. The marks on his wrist that resembled large hands. _

"_I'm not angry. I'm beyond pissed. But not at you. I'm angry at your father." Michael crouched down in front of Dean again. "Have you told anyone?" he asked. Dean shook his head. "Why?"_

"_I'm scared. Please, don't tell anyone. Please."_

"_But if you want it to stop, you have to tell someone," Michael urged. Dean shook his head._

"_No, I have to be a good boy. I have to do my homework and come home on time. Then he won't hit me," said Dean. "Don't tell anyone. Please, please, please don't," Dean begged. _

"_All right, then. I won't tell anyone. But you have to promise me something," Michael said, going against ever instinct he had to take this kid away from his father. Dean nodded, his shaking beginning to subside, but he was still fearful._

"_You will come here every day. I want you to teach me that last move. In turn, I won't tell your father and I'll make an excuse for you tonight. Sound like a deal?" Michael stood and held out his hand. Dean flinched, expecting a hit. When none came, he cautiously grasped Michael's hand and shook, allowing him to pull Dean to his feet._

"_Deal."_

The excuse worked. Michael told Dean's father he'd been helping him out with shelving the new books. His father bought it, but said it better not happen again.

Dean shuddered when he was a block and a half away from the shop. But not because of the cold, but from the warmth of remembering his first real friend. And his third real betrayal. First his mom, then Jensen.

Then, Michael left him too, just like everyone in Dean's life. He'd come to the studio one day, eager to start their daily routine. All he found was an empty studio and a note taped to the mirrors. All it told Dean was that Michael was sorry for leaving him like this.

He hoped he turned out well.

He would miss him.

He had to go take care of his mother who had a brain tumor.

It was the kind of 'take-care-of-until-they're-gone' type of take care. Dean knew the feeling.

At the bottom Michael had written a phone number, but Dean had never had the courage to call and soon, he'd settled back into his old way of cowering in fear and being a speck of dust in a tornado.

Dean stopped in front of the coffee shop door and took a deep breath, feeling his ribs protest. He poked gingerly at his chest. He was sure one of his ribs were broken. He took a shallow, steadying breath and pushed open the shop door, hearing the bell above him tinkle.

"Dean! You're late!" Alistair called from behind the counter.

"I'm sorry. I I'll come in early tomorrow to make up for it." _If Sam will let me_. Alistair shook his head.

"Don't worry about it. How's everything with you?" Alistair asked, refilling the coffee containers. Dean shrugged, feeling the soreness in his shoulders.

Dean removed his coat and stretched to hang it on the too-high coat peg. He gasped as he felt something pop in his chest. He crumpled instantly, the pain bringing him to his knees.

"Dean? Are you all right?" Alistair exclaimed, rushing to Dean's side.

"I-" he coughed heavily, and covered his mouth, feeling his palm become soaked. He pulled it away and glanced at it, fear piercing his chest as he processed the blood.

"Don't tell me you're fine. Come on, we're going to the hospital," Alistair said, half dragging, half carrying Dean outside and into his car.

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><p><strong>This was just an idea that popped into my head. Reviews are accepted, not required, but loved. I feel bad for Dean.<strong>

**Salt and Burn,  
>Dublin O'Malley<strong>

**XOXOX**

**Song of the Chapter: Faint- Linkin Park**


	2. Sunglasses For The Blind

**The Innocent**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: Sunglasses For The Blind<br>**

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><p>Dean was helped onto a hospital bed and he was suddenly scared. He hoped they wouldn't call Sam. He didn't know how much trouble he would be in if he found out.<p>

Dean coughed and felt his insides cram together. Something clogged his throat and he was suddenly gasping, choking. A nurse and two doctors were scurrying around the room. One finally took notice of him and rushed forward, crushing a mask to his face, hard enough to hurt. Dean fought. He was scared. He was really scared. He was gasping for breath as he tried to get away from the male nurse.

"Sir! Sir, please! Calm down!" the man shouted, turning the handle on a tank next to him. Dean gasped, his lungs burning, as oxygen filled him again and something warm and sticky oozed from his lips. He sucked in a sharp breath and spluttered again as more blood trickled through his lips.

There was a sharp sting in Dean's arm and he flinched. Then, he felt nothing. He was floating. Oh, he was still scared out of his mind, just unable to lift his arms to fight. He wanted the nurses to go away. He wanted to go home. It suddenly occurred to Dean that he was fifteen minutes late for his afternoon call.

Sam would be angry.

All round Dean things were fading to grey. His eyes felt so heavy, so… heavy. Maybe if he just closed his eyes for a second, everything would be all better. He distantly heard shouts then everything was dark.

_Dean was floating. _

_Floating in an endless blackness and he was cold. Too cold. He couldn't see anything past his freezing body. His body was pale, paler than ice, and it scared Dean. He called out desperately._

_"Hello?" His voice sounded hoarse and tired, and he expected his throat to feel scratchy. But he felt nothing, only the endless cold. "Hello!" he called again, feeling panic creep up his spine. His head began to throb and it startled him. He grasped his head in his hands and cried out, the pain warming him violently. He felt himself losing his balance, though he wasn't entirely sure whether he was standing or sitting. Suddenly, he was falling, screaming soundlessly as he was lost in the dark._

"Dean! Get a hold of yourself!" a voice shouted. Dean felt two hands on his shoulders, shaking him. He panicked, instantly thinking it was Sam.

"No! Please!" Dean shouted, pushing with all his might at the pair of arms, the pair of arms he couldn't see. He was frightened by this invisible person, by this invisible world. He couldn't see, he couldn't see, he couldn't _see_!

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Dean sobbed. Suddenly, the hands were withdrawn and Dean moved away from where he thought the person was. He pushed himself right of the bed and onto the floor. He gasped.

The bed?

"Mr. Winchester? Are you all right?" asked the disembodied, raspy voice. Fingertips touched his arms and he yanked them away as if he'd been burned.

"Don't touch me!" screamed Dean, curling into a ball, the only way he felt safe. He was shaking. Shaking and scared. He didn't know where he was. He didn't know why he was so cold, or why he couldn't see.

The hands restrained his flailing arms and Dean went limp, ready to just take whatever punishment he was to receive. Dean just sat on the cold floor that felt like tile and sobbed.

"Please, just…please," Dean whispered, lifting his head. "Don't hurt me." The hands on his shoulders slowly released their grip on Dean's arms. He felt blindly in front of him and grabbed ahold of a coat sleeve.

"Where am I?" asked Dean, still confused.

"Lenox Hill Hospital. Are you all right?" asked that gravelly voice. "Well, no I guess you wouldn't be, given you're in a hospital," the man concluded.

Dean's brain strained to remember why he was in a hospital while the hands helped him onto what he thought was the bed again.

"My name is Dr. Collins, but you can just call me Castiel," the voice explained. Dean nodded in the general direction off the voice as he felt a blanket being placed atop his legs.

Dean tugged at his fingers and glanced away from the voice, the best he could, at least. The question was nagging at him, and the sooner he knew why, the sooner he could get home and make Sam's dinner. He didn't want to risk another beating.

"Why can't I see?" whispered Dean. There was a small intake of breath and he heard some papers rustling.

"Brain damage," murmured Castiel quietly. Dean felt the familiar tingle of fear creep up his spine, like a snake ready to strike. He choked down his tears and attempted a brave face. "Mr. Winchester-"

"Dean. Call me Dean," he said. He gasped and realised he'd spoken out of turn, covering his mouth.

Castiel continued, as if he hadn't noticed Dean's reaction. Not that Dean could really tell, anyway.

"-Dean. I have to ask some questions off you. Will you answer them honestly for me?" Castiel asked quietly.

Dean's fists bunched in the blanket as he nodded. There was the sound off footsteps, a door shutting, and then footsteps again. A hand was placed over one off Dean's clenched fists, which he imagined were white-knuckled.

"Dean, it's all right. Just answer these questions truthfully and we can let you go on home," Castiel said comfortingly. Dean froze. He didn't want to go home. He didn't want to face Sam's wrath. He didn't want to suffer again.

Dean nodded, swallowing thickly.

"All right, let's see. Are you in a relationship?"

Dean nodded 'yes'. But what he was in, he couldn't really call it a relationship. More like slave and slave master.

"Your partner's name?"

"Sam Singer," Dean said reluctantly. He wasn't sure about answering these questions now. They were different than the ones the other doctors asked him on previous visits.

"Are you sexually active?" was the next question. Again, Dean had to rethink. He'd never had willing sex. It had always been during a beating. Always.

"More or less," Dean whispered, twisting the blanket between his fists.

"Are you and your partner living together? Whose residence?"

"Yes. His place."

"Have you ever been married?"

"No," Dean said quickly. Sam had tried, and Dean had said no. He didn't want to be permanently Sam's slave, Sam's toy. Just thinking about what Sam had done to him after he refused made Dean's blood boil.

There was a long pause and he heard Castiel suck in a long breath. "Have there been any types of abuse in the household? Reported and not."

Dean tensed and clenched his teeth, wrapping his arms around his knees. The tears were coming hard and fast now, streaming down his face to drip onto his arms. The shaking started, the fear. The familiar ice crept into his lungs and his sobs turned to wheezing.

"Dean," said Castiel. "I need you to answer this question." That hand on his arm again. It was becoming too much. He needed to get home, do his daily chores and hope he could come up with a good enough excuse for Sam. But Dean knew that he never would. No excuse could change the outcome that always seemed to follow.

"I need to go home."

"You can't, you-"

"Didn't you _hear _me? I need to go home! Now! What time is it? Oh no, he's going to be so angry. No, no, no, no…" Dean's voice trailed off as he received a mental picture of just exactly what Sam would do to him this time. Dean wanted to shut his eyes and make the image go away until he realised it wouldn't matter. He couldn't see. He whipped his head back and forth, hoping to clear the image from his mind. To wipe it away.

He was encased in a pair of large, warm arms. His face was pressed into a soft cotton shirt that he proceeded to soak with his tears. He didn't care. For once in his miserable life, he wasn't afraid. He just cried out all his frustration and sadness and pain. All the hurt, guilt and need he had, all onto this one man's shoulder.

Onto Castiel's shoulder.

When Dean's wracking sobs turned to sad hiccups, he pulled away. He wiped at his eyes, suddenly feeling embarrassed about his outburst. He felt better, though. It'd been years since he'd allowed himself to cry. He thought he was strong, holding the tears in for all those years. But really, it just made him weak and unrelenting.

He let out a shaky breath. "I'm sorry. I don't know what that was all about. I apologise."

"I do."

Dean lifted his head to stare in Castiel's general direction. "Huh?"

"I know what that was all about. Dean, all the signs are there. This," Dean felt a hand rest on his knee and flinched instinctively, "-is one of them. These," Castiel's and touched the cuts and bruises on Dean's face, "-are another."

"I fell down the stairs," Dean murmured, dropping his head down, feeling the pressure of the days past events weighing him down.

"Heard that one before. And let me guess, the cut on your cheek is from walking into a door? Dean, this is serious. I can help you. How long has this been going on?"

Dean swallowed. "Sam and I have been together for three years. I'm too scared to leave. He might find me and hurt me, I'm tired of hurting. But it didn't start with Sam," added Dean.

"When?" was Castiel's soft answer.

"It was my dad first, then kids at school, now Sam. It started when I was four, hasn't stopped since. I've never caught a break."

Dean realised Castiel's hand was still on his face. Castiel seemed to also because he withdrew it slowly.

"Dean," Castiel said, a voice full of indecision. "You don't want to go home, do you? You want to go home because you have to?"

Dean nodded. He licked his lips, his mouth suddenly parched at the mention of his 'home'.

"Not tonight. You must stay in the hospital overnight. Would you like to call Sam, or should I?"

Dean bit his lip.

He debated with himself, battling over his fear and climbing over his self-preservation. If he called Sam, he couldn't be sure as to what he would say.

'Hey, Sam. I can't come home tonight because you fucked up my brain. I'm blind now, thanks. Dinner's in the fridge.'

Or

'I'm done with your beatings. I'm blind because of you. I'm done with you and the pain.'

"Dean?"

Dean was pulled from his thoughts by Castiel. Dean shrugged, took a deep breath (winced at the pain in his chest), then spoke.

"Can you call him? I don't think I could handle it," asked Dean, rubbing at his puffy eyes.

Dean felt Castiel's hand on his knee. "Of course. In the meantime, Dean, you should get some rest. We'll talk again when you wake." Dean smiled at where he was sure Castiel was. An unfamiliar tightness was filling Dean's chest, but it was pleasurable and it made Dean smile wider.

Castiel's hand left his knee and Dean heard the sound of footsteps. When the door closed, Dean gave a small frown. He'd never felt this before. Safe. Secure. Was it Castiel? Was it the medication?

Then a funny thought hit him: Could there be love at first sight for a blind person?

With that tought in his head, Dean fell asleep happy for the firs time in twenty five years.

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><p><strong>Wow! This story is booming! Thanks for all your reviews. If you have a suggestion, or comment that you've forgotten to add in your review go ahead and visit my blog: Fic It Out. Here's the address. <strong>

**ficitout (dot) wordpress (dot) com**

**Reviews are accepted, not required, but loved.**

**Salt and Burn,  
>Dublin O'Malley<strong>

**XOXOX**

**Song of the Chapter: La Fuerza Mayor- Il Divo **


	3. Seeing Through the Veil

**Merry Christmas, everyone! Happy holidays! Any special requests for Dean and Castiel? Any one-shots?**

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><p><strong>The Innocent<strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: Seeing Through the Veil<strong>

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><p>Castiel stayed with Dean that night. He made sure not to leave him alone for an extended period of time. His phone call to Sam had deeply disturbed him.<p>

**Four Hours Before**

_The phone rang once before it was answered._

_"Hello?" came a gruff voice on the other end._

_"Is this Sam Singer?" Castiel asked, leaning against the wall of his office. _

_"Who wants to know?"_

_Castiel bit the inside of his cheek. "This is Dr. Collins from the intensive care unit at Lenox Hill Hospital. We have Mr. Winchester here and-"_

_"Tell that little maggot to get his ass home!" Sam snarled. _

_"Mr. Singer, we can't-"_

_"Do it, or I'll come get him myself." Then the line disconnected, leaving Castiel to stand there, staring down at the phone, concern for Dean's safety willing his legs to turn around and go back to the hospital room. _

Castiel sat in a chair next to the hospital bed. He watched Dean's stuttering breaths and the small quiver of his lips when he breathed too deep. How could anyone hurt him?

Dean looked so innocent, so vulnerable. Castiel clenched his hands that rested on his knees, stopping himself from reaching out and touching Dean. After the reaction he'd received earlier, he didn't want to frighten him.

Castiel rubbed a hand over his face, exhaustion creeping up on him. He slipped his white 'doctor jacket' (as the little ones referred to it) off and hung it on the back of his chair. He crossed his arms and settled into the chair, closing his eyes. We would just rest for a moment…

BANG!

Castiel shot up from his chair at the loud sound. Dean was pressed up against the wall behind the hospital bed, shaking and whimpering. Castiel turned his head and immediately concluded that the giant of a man in the doorway was Sam Singer. Castiel stood and moved in front of Dean, straining to keep his expression calm in the presence of this man he had newfound hatred of.

"Dean," Sam seethed, stalking towards the two of them. "Are you ready to come home? You're late."

Dean buried his face into Castiel's back and Castiel felt the tremors that wracked Dean's body. Dean's hands fisted in his light grey T-shirt.

"Mr. Singer. You are trespassing. I suggest you leave. This area is off limits to visitors this time of night," Castiel said.

"Don't worry, it'll only take a moment to collect him and be on my way," Sam said, stepping forward and reaching a hand out for Dean. Castiel blocked his hand, grabbing it by the wrist.

"I said," Castiel said slowly, "I suggest you leave." Sam's dangerous playfulness turned to fury as he looked at the hand on his wrist, to Dean, then to Castiel's hard, blue, unblinking eyes.

"I don't think I want to," Sam said, then brought his other fist in towards Castiel's stomach. It connected firmly with Castiel's middle, who let out a soft 'oof', but didn't stumble. Sam's blow wasn't nearly as hard as he could hit. This man was drunk; the fumes from the alcohol rolling off his body.

"I will not let you near him. You'll have to get through me," Castiel said, putting an arm protectively in front of Dean. Castiel dropped Sam's wrist and swung low, hitting his target on the mark. Sam fell to one knee, cupping himself.

To Castiel's surprise, Sam let out a low chuckle. "That's-mmph- a bitch move," he laughed.

Sam lumbered to his feet, smiling evilly. Castiel felt no fear. He was not scared of this monster disguised as a human. This…-this _demon_. Rage flooded Castiel, a feeling he hadn't felt in years, something he hadn't let himself feel for the safety of people around him. He growled, low in his chest.

Then, Castiel launched himself at Sam.

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><p>Dean buried his face in Castiel's T-shirt, terrified again. Sam was here. He'd been stupid to think he'd be able to stay here overnight. Stupid to believe that he, Dean Winchester, magnet for bad happenings, would catch a break tonight.<p>

When he felt Castiel start to shake, he tensed. There was going to be a fight. He'd already felt Castiel get punched in the stomach and it had made Dean sick to his own, thinking of Sam hitting this man, this man who had let him cry on his shoulder.

"Castiel! No!" Dean shouted as Castiel launched himself at Sam's hulking frame. Dean heard a thud and a groan that sounded like Sam. The sound of a fist on flesh had Dean flinching, the sound all too familiar.

"How does it *punch* feel? *punch* How does it feel?" Castiel repeated over and over. Dean couldn't stand it anymore. He stumbled until his shins struck the two fighting men. Though from the sound of it, Castiel wasn't exactly letting Sam fight. Dean stuck his hands out and grabbed Castiel's arm.

"Castiel, stop. Please, stop," Dean pleaded, pulling his arm. The terrible sounds stopped and all Dean heard were the ragged breaths and groans coming from Sam.

"Sam. Go. Now," Dean commanded, dropping Castiel's arm. Somehow he could feel Sam's stare on his face, probing and intense.

"Your eyes, what's wrong with them?" Sam grunted. Dean heard him getting to his feet, and Dean felt a sharp shot of fear roll down his spine, but he held his ground. He was tired of it. Tired of being pushed around by Sam, by other people, he was tired of hurting.

"I said get out!" Dean suddenly screamed, the anger and pain and rage boiling over into one long, loud shout. His eyes were wide open now; he knew it and he still couldn't see. But somehow, he managed to plant his hands firmly in the middle of Sam's chest and shove him through the door. There was a loud crash and Dean realised his arms were still extended in front of him.

"Standing up for yourself now, I see. Don't worry, it won't last long," Sam said and Dean heard his footsteps echo down the hallway.

Dean just stood there, frozen to the spot, blinking rapidly, thoughts and feelings roiling around in his head. A hand was on his shoulder, a voice was speaking to him, but it seemed a mile away. Right then, Dean was going through three years of hate, sadness and grief. But strangely, he was calm. Sure, he'd just stood up to the man who had caused most of the problems in his life for the past three year, but… he wasn't prideful. If he was anything, he was humbled.

Castiel had stepped between him and Sam, just to save Dean. A man he hardly knew for a day, and he'd protected him. Dean grasped the word that would describe his feelings. Dumbfounded.

"Dean." Dean turned to where he'd felt Castiel, beside his hospital bed.

"Hm?" was Dean's quiet reply.

"Are you all right?" Castiel asked. Shuffling sounds, then Dean was being guided to the bed. He sat down, almost torpidly. His limbs felt limp, the adrenaline having worn off.

The mattress beside Dean dipped and the rough material of dress pants brushed against his bare thigh, barely covered by the light green hospital gown. Dean distantly wondered who had dressed him, and where the light blue boxer shorts had come from.

There was an awkward silence.

"Is that what you've had to deal with? For the past three years?" Castiel asked, his voice sounding thick.

Dean sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Yes. But more like the past twenty-five years. I never left because I was afraid of what he would do to me, what he _could _do to me."

Castiel shifted beside Dean.

"I know what you mean."

Dean turned his head towards Castiel.

Castiel elaborated, "I had to watch my father beat my younger brother, Gabriel. He beat him to death. He was _only five years old_. He'd only experienced five damn years of life, and my father took the rest away. I hate that man for what he did to my baby brother."

Castiel tensed beside Dean, the memories coming back in sudden flashes. He wondered why he was telling Dean these things. It felt right, normal, like he did it every day.

"My father beat my mother to death, I was six," said Dean quietly. "Then, my brother Jensen died of stomach cancer-" Dean paused, pressing his knuckles to his trembling lips. "-and I was alone." Dean let out a small, gasping sob, cursing himself for crying again. If he didn't get it together soon, he might lose it completely.

"Fifteen, alone, gay and an easy target." Dean let out a small chuckle, despite the tears running down his cheeks. "But I was alive. I was the lucky one. I always felt like my mother was watching over me. Jensen, too."

Castiel's placed his calloused hand atop Dean's. "Tell me about him."

Dean bit the inside of his lip and closed his eyes, steadying his shaking breath.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Castiel said, seeing the other man's reaction. He felt bad for prying, but he wanted to know more about Dean, he _needed_ to know more.

"No, it's fine. Better late than never," Dean gasped.

_Just rip it off. Like a Band-Aid, _Dean thought. With a long, painful sigh, Dean unlocked that special spot in his heart that was owned by Jensen, and threw open the hatch.

"God, where to start? I was Jensen's shadow, but only because I wanted to be. I followed him wherever he went. He protected me from dad when he could. He was my idol. I wanted to _be _him. He was perfect. Perfect grades, athletic, scholarship on the way.

"He was the only person besides my mother who made me feel like I was worth something. That I meant something to this world and that God had a place for me. I was a person around Jensen, not a punching bag." Dean used the hem of his gown to wipe his eyes.

"Then…he died."

Dean dropped his hands into his lap. He yawned loudly.

"You should get some sleep. You need to rest. There really isn't much reason for you to stay here any longer. We've patched up your ribs. There wasn't any internal bleeding, but it was still pretty bad. You're scheduled for discharge in the morning." Castiel paused. "Dean, do you have anywhere else to go."

Dean shook his head. He realised he had nowhere to call home, to go back to. He certainly wasn't going back to Sam. Never.

"No," Dean said softly. Castiel's hand on his squeezed, sympathising.

Castiel gave a resigned sigh. "Uh, Dean, would you like to- uh stay…with me?" Castiel stuttered out. Dean's breath caught in his throat.

"I-I don't know. I've nev-"

"It's all right, Dean. I understand," Castiel said, but he was a little hurt. Dean could hear the rejection in Castiel's voice as the weight beside Dean left and Castiel's hand slipped from his.

"No, wait. I didn't say no," Dean whispered, hanging his head as he tugged on his fingers. The mattress sagged again as Castiel sat beside him.

"So, you'll stay? I'm sorry, Dean. Whether you want to or not, I will not let you go back to him," Castiel said.

"I don't want to go back to Sam. I-I'll stay with you," said Dean. He let out another long yawn.

"Good." Dean heard the smile in Castiel's voice. "Goodnight, Dean." Castiel made to get up but Dean reached out and grabbed his T-shirt.

"Don't get up," Dean pleaded. Castiel hesitated. "Please?"

Castiel settled back down next to Dean, his arm behind Dean's head. Dean huddled close to Castiel, shivering from the lack of clothing and heaters in the hospital room.

Dean felt completely safe, pressed close to Castiel, feeling his warmth. Castiel felt like home, something Dean had never had.

Dean was home.

* * *

><p><strong>Awwww. I really do love these two together. Even though Dean can't see Cas, he's already falling for him. So sweet. <strong>

**Reviews are accepted, not required, but loved.**

**Salt and Burn,  
>Dublin O'Malley<strong>

**XOXOX**

**Song of the Chapter: Hero of War- Rise Against**


	4. Audio Files for Sympathy Cards

**This chapter is really short, I know. I apologise, but I just wanted to squeeze one more chapter out before Christmas Eve. If it doesn't have as much flow, please let me know. This was done in a bit of a rush. **

**The heaters in my house have gone out…sad face. **

**Enjoy.**

* * *

><p><strong>The Innocent<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4: Audio Files for Sympathy Cards<strong>

* * *

><p>Dean felt a hand on his shoulder, shaking him. He shot up straight in the hospital bed, chest heaving. He was confused as to why he couldn't see…then it all rushed back to him and he swayed then slumped against the pillows.<p>

"Castiel?" he asked through groggy lips.

"Yes, Dean, I'm here. I've brought your clothes to change into. I'll be right outside the door if you need anything," came the sound of Castiel's voice. A pile of cotton and leather was placed in Dean's hands.

"You-you won't leave?" Dean asked innocently. Dean couldn't see it, but that one statement made tears come to Castiel's eyes. He cleared his throat.

"Of course not. Give a holler if you need any help," Castiel said and walked out of the small hospital room, only to stop right outside and lean against the wall.

Inside, Dean was running strategies though his head. He decided he better find the curtain and pull it back before he did anything. He stood and felt blindly around the room till his fingers met cotton glazed in durable plastic. The curtain. He gave it a tug and was glad the thing was on runners.

After the curtain was in place, Dean felt for his clothes. He picked up the first thing his fingers touched. Leather. His jacket. Not yet. He tried again.

Cotton. His shirt, good. He stripped from the gown and proceeded to slip the shirt over his head.

_This isn't so bad, _Dean thought, threading his arms through the sleeves. He reached out again and found his jeans.

His calm attitude soon gave way to frustrated growls and continually clenched teeth. He felt hot tears stinging his eyes as he struggled to put his jeans on. His lip quivered as he sat on the edge of the hospital bed. He gathered his pride and swallowed it.

"Castiel?" Dean called. The sound of the door opening, then the curtain being pushed aside had Dean's cheeks burning. Dean's head was down, tears dripping down his chin.

"Yes, Dean?" Castiel felt his heart give a squeeze at how miserable Dean looked.

"I can't do it," Dean said dejectedly, looking up and staring at Castiel with his pale, milky eyes. His tears shone on his face as Dean pointed to floor, where his clothes lay in a heap.

"Oh, Dean," Castiel said sadly, staring at the helpless man, sitting only in the hospital provided boxer shorts and his T-shirt, which Castiel noticed was inside out.

"Here, let me help you," Castiel said, bending down and picking up Dean's rumpled jeans. "Stand up." Dean did as he was told, embarrassed beyond measure.

"Give me your foot," ordered Castiel. Castiel guided Dean's foot through the leg of his pants, and then did the same for the other side. He helped Dean pull them up and button the snap closed. "There, all done," Castiel said softly, kneeling in front of Dean.

One of Dean's hands wandered over his chest then tugged at the collar. His face fell, fresh tears springing to his eyes.

Dean tugged on the collar again, dropping his head so he could 'look' down at Castiel. "Did I do this wrong too?" Dean asked, his voice small and sad. Castiel bit his lip.

"Yes," was Castiel's quiet reply. He really didn't want to hurt Dean's feelings, but he'd rather tell him now, than for him to find out later and break down in the parking lot. Castiel wasn't much of a shield against a speeding car.

"Oh." And then Dean was crying again. It broke Castiel's heart. He stood and wrapped his arms around the sobbing man. "I can't d-do anything-g-g ri-ight," bawled Dean.

"Shh, shh, don't say that. It's all right, let me help you," Castiel soothed, running a hand through Dean's short hair and rubbing calming circles into his lower back. Castiel's mother had done that for him when he was younger, to soothe him when his anger got out of control. He'd let her do it now if she were still alive, bless her heart.

Castiel released Dean and helped him tug the shirt above his head. Castiel turned the shirt right-side out and slipped it over Dean's head. Dean looked positively depressed as he stared at the floor, his bare feet dangling over the edge of the bed.

Castiel knelt and gathered Dean's boots and socks, slipping them on his feet. God, he hated that look on Dean's face. He was so sad, so full of pain that he was practically bursting at the seams. Castiel reached up a hand to touch Dean's cheek.

"Hey, it's going to be okay. We'll figure it out. Please, don't be sad," Castiel pleaded. Dean gave him a watery smile.

Dean stood unsteadily and grabbed the bed rails for support. He hadn't spent much time standing and his legs were like rubber.

"Here," he heard Castiel say. Something hard and plastic was pressed into his hands. Sunglasses. "I'm told glare is even worse when you're…" Castiel trailed off, swallowing hard.

"When you're blind," Dean finished and placed the sunglasses over his eyes. A single tear traced down Dean's cheek and Castiel wiped it away with the pad of his thumb.

"It's going to be okay, Dean," Castiel said softly.

* * *

><p><p>

If he thought he was worthless before, that was nothing compared to what Dean was thinking now. As he and Castiel walked through the parking garage, Castiel holding his hand like a three year old, Dean kept choking back tears. It seemed now that he'd broken down the wall that held back his emotions, they wouldn't stop.

Castiel stopped and Dean heard the sound of a door unlocking. Castiel held his elbow as Dean stumbled into the seat. He sank into the soft leather. The driver side door opened and closed.

"It'll be a short ride, a couple of miles," Castiel assured Dean.

"Are you sure you're okay with this? I don't want to be a problem," said Dean. His forehead was pressed against the glass of the cool window. He breathed against the glass shallowly.

"Dean, I am more than happy to help you. After all, I am your physical therapist."

"What? There's physical therapy for blind people?" Dean asked.

Castiel nodded, remembered Dean couldn't see then said, "Yes. I'll show you when we get home."

Dean's chest tingled at the word 'home'. He pulled his knees up to his chest, thinking hard. Why did he always feel like this around Castiel? The feeling was so foreign to him, it made his skin crawl. It made his stomach do somersaults.

Dean poked gingerly at his chest, grunting at the soreness. He wasn't poking at his ribs, not really. He was really checking on the walls around his heart, vaguely wondering if they were crumbling. He didn't know if his heart would be able to accept anything, or if he would let it.

"Hey," Castiel said softly beside him. "You in there?"

"More or less," Dean said. He felt Castiel's hand on his knee and turned his head in his direction.

"It's going to be okay, Dean. I know I keep saying that, but… I promise it will," Castiel said, rubbing his thumb back and forth across Dean's knee. It cleared Dean's head.

"Hey, Castiel?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you, for…for everything. This is all kind of new to me," said Dean. There it was again. He lost his head whenever he spoke to Castiel. He couldn't think. He felt like a teenager all over again, but he'd rather not think about those times.

"You're welcome, Dean. By the way, you can call me Cas," said Castiel, smiling. "And another thing… you don't have to go through this alone. I'm here for you if you need me."

"I know," said Dean, smiling to himself. He felt the tightening of his chest, the warm buzzing in his head.

They rode in comfortable silence, Dean's heart harbouring new feelings and emotions. Casti- _Cas's _own stuttering a few beats at the smile on Dean's face.

* * *

><p><strong>So? Was this all right? Really short compared to the other three chapters. Sigh. Happy holidays.<strong>

**Reviews are accepted, not required, but loved.**

**Salt and Burn,  
>Dublin O'Malley<strong>

**XOXOX**

**Song of the Chapter: A New Hope- Broken Iris **


	5. Love Blindly

**Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukah! Happy Kwanza! I hope your holidays will be filled with laughter and many, many Destiel thoughts! :D**

**Guess what? I'm getting a drawing tablet! Happy squeal! **

**Enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

><p><strong>The Innocent<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5: Love Blindly<br>**

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><p><strong>Song of the Chapter: Faith and Doubt- Aaron Espe<strong>

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><p>Dean felt the car pull to a stop.<p>

He'd been daydreaming, thinking about Jensen. Wondering where he might be if he hadn't died. But Dean knew it wasn't true, Jensen was gone and he was here. Though it'd happened nearly fifteen years ago, Dean still couldn't understand why Jensen had to go. He didn't think he ever would.

"We're here," Castiel said softly, noticing Dean's tense muscles. He laid a hand on his forearm. "Don't worry." Dean visibly relaxed under Cas's touch.

Dean fumbled for the door handle, found it, then proceeded to stumble headfirst into the sidewalk after tripping over a parking block. Castiel was by his side in an instant, steadying him before he could do any real damage. Dean turned his head to Castiel and smiled gratefully.

"Thanks," said Dean sheepishly.

"Any time," replied Castiel. He held onto Dean's elbow as the other man got to his feet.

Dean stood on the sidewalk awkwardly. "So, um, which way?" he asked.

Castiel placed his hand on the small of his back and guided Dean in the opposite direction he was facing. He tried to ignore the warmth Cas's hand provided; it felt nice. It took Dean a moment to realise that he wasn't…afraid. He wasn't flinching from Castiel's touch. He wasn't scared that Castiel was going to do something unwanted. He-he _trusted _Castiel.

"Just a few steps and we'll be there," Castiel said beside him. Dean's boots bumped into a step and he lifted his foot. He let out a satisfied grunt when he managed all four stairs; he'd counted. Castiel's hand left Dean's elbow and he heard the jingling of keys.

"Come on, come on," he heard Castiel mutter under his breath. There was a satisfied 'aha!' and a door was opened.

"Well, here we are. Home sweet home. _Mi casa es su casa_," Castiel said, guiding Dean through the door. Dean was almost immediately hit with the scent of paint. Not wall paint, acrylic. Artist's paint. He breathed deeply, remembering the smell.

His mother used to paint. The things she could do with a paintbrush…they were always beautiful. Pottery, holiday cards, canvas, Dean's bedroom walls. She did it all and it always turned out beautiful; just like her.

Dean could picture her in his head, her curly blond hair tied back by a blue, daisy spotted bandanna, worn and torn denim jacket splashed with various colours. Her slim figure swallowed whole by one of his father's oversized T-shirts.

He'd lean in the doorway, watching as she made effortless brush strokes, creating beauty like nothing Dean had seen before.

He used to draw. He would sit beside his mother and sketch out how he was feeling. His mother called it his style of poetry. His mom told him he was good, good enough that she had started to save money in a jar for him so he could go to a good college and get even better.

He smiled sadly as he remembered her stunning smile, how happy she was despite the bruises that marred her beautiful face.

_Twenty Years Ago_

_'Dean! Blue paint, stat!' Dean's mom called, holding a hand behind her. Dean scampered over to the work table and handed her the can of paint. 'Ah, thank you, love. The patient is stable again.'_

_Dean smiled, not entirely understanding his mother's words, but happy all the same. _

_'Mommy! Look what I drew! It's you!' Dean rushed over and handed her the piece of sketch paper, his face and hands covered in charcoal and graphite. _

_Mary Winchester inspected the drawing before her. It never ceased to amaze her, how wonderful her little boy could draw. It was quite good for a five year old. She wrapped an arm around Dean, hugging him close._

_'It's beautiful, Dean. This one gets hung up,' Mary said. She grabbed a clothespin and clipped the little portrait to the wire strung across their shed 'studio'. John wouldn't allow them to have one in the house._

_'Really?' asked Dean, excited. _

_'Yep.' Mary climbed off the small step stool and poked Dean in the stomach. He giggled. _

_'Stop it,' he said. _

_'Make me!' she replied. Their conversation dissolved into giggles and fits of laughter and spilled paint._

Dean felt a tear slowly crawl down his cheek. He wiped it away, hoping Castiel hadn't seen. But, of course, he had.

"Dean?" asked Cas, confusion and concern in his tone. "Is something wrong?"

Dean sniffled and wiped his nose. He gave a small, melancholy smile. "Everything's just fine." He turned and wrapped his arms around the shorter man,glad to have someone to comfort him. After a few moments of Castiel standing frozen, he wrapped his arms around Dean and held him close, savouring Dean's warmth.

Dean released him and stepped back, a light blush staining his cheeks at the sudden sign of affection.

They stood in silence that, to Castiel, felt like hours but in reality, was only a few minutes. He could still feel Dean's arms around him and the blush on Dean's stubble dusted cheeks did wonderful things to his chest.

"Let's get you settled in," Castiel said, clearing his throat and breaking the silence.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, sure," Dean said. Castiel's hand was on his shoulder, gently guiding his down what Dean guessed was a hallway.

"Here we are," said Castiel. The sound of a door opening and Cas's hand leaving his shoulder. He turned, searching for Castiel. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do.

"Go on in," Castiel urged. Dean took a step forward, his arms outstretched before him. He walked with small unsure steps until his shins bumped into something hard.

"Ow," said Dean. He bent down and fumbled along a wooden surface, then farther, till his fingers sank into a soft comforter. He felt around the edge of the backboard until he was sure he could sit. He did an awkward roll/bounce, and then he was laying on the bed.

"Ugh, I had no idea sitting would be so hard," Dean whined. Castiel let out a soft chuckle as Dean righted himself.

"It's not funny!" snapped Dean, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It's a little funny," said Castiel.

Dean sat with a cute little pout on his face that made Castiel's heart melt and his smile wider. Dean began to squirm uncomfortably.

"Um, Cas? Where's your bathroom?" Dean asked desperately, frown lines appearing on his forehead. Castiel hurriedly ushered Dean out of the bedroom, into the hall, and into the hall bathroom, the only one in the small apartment.

"Dean, please tell me you don't need help," Castiel said, almost pleadingly. He wasn't sure he was up for _that _kind of contact.

"I don't," said Dean, practically running over to the toilet and unzipping. Castiel gulped and waited outside the bathroom, having to listen to the sounds of Dean do his business. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes.

_Get a hold of yourself, Castiel. _

* * *

><p>Dean finished with a sigh. He'd never had to use the bathroom so terribly in his life. He flushed, attempted to wash his hands, then felt along the wall for the doorway.<p>

"Cas?" Dean called.

"Right here." Dean whirled, hand over his heart at the sound of Castiel's gravelly voice.

"You scared me!" exclaimed Dean.

"My apologies." Dean didn't even have to see to know Cas was smiling.

"Mhm," Dean grumbled, just as his stomach did. Dean frowned. "What time is it?" he asked.

"Ten forty-five. Are you hungry?"

Dean shook his head. "It's not time yet. Breakfast is at 6:30. Lunch is at noon. Dinner is at 6:45," Dean said automatically.

Castiel put an arm around Dean's shoulders, frowning. "Well, not here. You eat when you need to. If you're hungry, the pantry isn't locked. I told you, things are going to be different from now on."

This made Dean think of the pantry at Sam's apartment. Sam kept it padlocked, only allowing Dean inside at his allowed times, and for only a few minutes. It made Dean's stomach churn, just thinking about Sam.

Dean stomach rumbled again and he smiled sheepishly.

Castiel grasped Dean's hand and led him through the small apartment. He stopped in front of his small food pantry and opened the accordion doors.

He guided Dean's hand along the shelves.

"First shelf is pastas and canned food. Second shelf is cereal and breakfast foods. Third is the shelf that all the other things that don't fit into those two categories and don't need to be refrigerated," Castiel explained.

"Are you still hungry? I have some spaghetti left over from last night. Sorry, it's not anything extravagant. Ever since my last, er, boyfriend left, I found I didn't have a reason to cook anything special," explained Castiel, rubbing the back of his neck, becoming increasingly aware of how Dean's hand was nestled into his own.

Dean smiled as a tear slipped down his cheek. "That's fine. I could care less if it was leftover spaghetti or a ham sandwich. This is all just…great. _You're _just great. Thank you so much, Castiel. I could never thank you enough," Dean added quietly.

Castiel wiped the tear away with the pad of his thumb. "You know, Dean, when I walked into your hospital room and I saw you, a broken, mistreated, underestimated man, my heart broke. Mt last relationship was much like yours. That bastard gave me this."

Castiel slid the collar of his T-shirt over and exposed his shoulder. He placed Dean's hand over the scar. Dean ran his fingertips over the raised flesh, feeling a sense of protectiveness as it trailed to the spot where Castiel's shoulder and neck meet.

"God, Castiel, what did he _do _to you?" Dean breathed as the scar made another tangent down Castiel's back and continued, disappearing beneath the neckline of Castiel's T-shirt.

Cas felt tears come to his eyes as the memory of the pain and helplessness and fear came back to him.

Castiel sucked in a breath. "He stabbed me. Over and over and over," Castiel said, biting his tongue not being enough to stop the flow of tears. Dean squeezed his shoulder and pulled him forward so his forehead rested in the hollow of Dean's throat. He threaded his finger through Castiel's short locks as he sobbed.

"I-It hurt so _damn bad_. I couldn't do a thing to stop him, not a thing," Castiel whispered. "He-He nearly _killed _me, Dean. I almost died. All because I'd saved someone's life before dinner."

Dean closed his eyes tight and dropped his chin to top of Castiel's head. Hearing Castiel cry made Dean so sad, it felt like his heart was being ripped in two. He brushed the backs of his fingertips on Castiel's neck, the same as his mother had when a beating was particularly painful. When life got too hard, his mother had always been there for him.

He vowed he would do the same for Castiel, no matter what happened, or who go tin the way, he would always be there for him.

So, as Castiel cried on Dean's shoulder, letting out all his frustration and pain and anger from his past happenings, just as Dean had, Dean let his own tear fall to mingle with the other man's. He let their pain and sorrow mingle until they were one. Until their hearts were joined at the hip.

And honestly, Dean liked the feeling of someone else holding his heart, and not crushing it in the process, but building it up with steel reinforcements and girders that would last a lifetime.

* * *

><p><strong>When I was living in Britain, they didn't use the term 'bathroom'. Well, unless you wanted to take a bath, I suppose. I only lived in Britain for two years, but I did live in Ireland for about seven of my fourteen. Dublin, in fact, hence my name. Yup, I was named after a place…thanks mom and da. <strong>

**But in Ireland and the US, they're called bathrooms. Sigh. **

**Now that I've rambled, time for another HAPPY HOLIDAYS! **

**Feliz navidad,  
>Dublin O'Malley<strong>

XOXOX


	6. Out of Sight, In Mind

**I hope everyone had or is having a happy holiday!  
>I think, as my present to you, I will give you a treat. (: Keep reading.<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>The Innocent<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6: Out of Sight, In Mind<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Song of the Chapter: One Life to Love- 33 Miles<strong>

* * *

><p>After both Castiel and Dean had calmed down enough to move and form coherent sentences, Castiel led them into the small living room that housed a television, a couch and a bookshelf in serious need of an increase of space.<p>

Castiel sat Dean down on the sofa, a little more than nervous. Dean could sense it in the way Castiel's hand was sweating in his own.

"Cas? You okay?" Dean asked, a little concerned. Castiel's fingers tensed in his own. Dean squeezed them reassuringly.

"I'm fine. Dean, I-I want to try something," Castiel said, his hands shaking slightly. He ran a hand through his hair. Dean's thumb caressed the back of his hand, hoping to soothe whatever was troubling Castiel.

"Sure." Dean said it with such innocence and open understanding that it wiped away any fears Castiel had of his next move.

"O-okay. Just…hold still," Castiel said, sucking in his breath and conjuring up his courage.

He leant forward til he and Dean were a breath apart, their lips close to touching. That was when Castiel hesitated, when he wondered if this was good for either one of them.

Then, Dean spoke. "Don't worry, Cas. We'll get through this together." And with that, Dean placed his hand behind Castiel's head, fingers twining in the curly locks, and pressed their lips together.

Castiel didn't think he'd ever had a kiss like this. So sweet, so innocent. Dean's lips were shaking beneath his and he wrapped his arms around him, holding him to his chest. It was all soft lips, pushing and softly pulling, the epitome of care for the other.

Dean let the tears fall as he tasted love for the first time in his life. Real love. It was sweet on his tongue, it was heady in his nose and it was thick enough to cloud out the past and the pain. He almost melted into Castiel as they shared that one moment together, both finally tasting what they'd never had.

Castiel felt the wetness on his cheeks and pulled away slightly, lightly resting his forehead on Dean's, his hand on the back of his neck. Their breaths mingled and their knees lightly touched on the sofa.

"Are-Are you all right, Dean?" Castiel asked breathlessly. He let his thumb trace across Dean's cheekbone, wiping away the tears that shone there.

Dean sucked in his lower lip and looked to the heavens and shook his head slightly. "God, I'm more than okay, Cas. I'm just…fantastic. No one's _ever _kissed me that way," said Dean, smiling.

A light blush stained his cheeks and he ducked his head, teeth worrying at his lip. He was wringing his fingers in his lap and Castiel gently took them in his, unclasping his fingers and setting them flat on his thighs. Dean gulped when Castiel's warmth seeped into his palms.

If Castiel was to be completely honest with himself, he thought Dean was the most beautiful creature on the face of the Earth. From his scuffed boots, to his sandy, close-cropped hair, to his strong will that nearly knocked Castiel backward.

Dean was what Castiel could now use to describe beautiful.

He'd never known what beautiful meant, only that it pertained to people such as his little brother, or his mother; people with a heart that was capable of showing love. Dean had that. He had a heart he wore on sleeve proudly, a heart that was just as vulnerable as strong.

It made Castiel's own heart ache just thinking about how torn his and Dean's pasts were. How many scars, inside and out, they had received. All the grief, the loss, the pain.

Not anymore.

Castiel planned to mend Dean's heart. He planned to make this other man whole again. New.

Castiel was pulled from his thoughts as Dean's hand lightly stroked his cheek. He smiled.

"What are you thinking about?" asked Castiel, as he noticed the concentration lines deepen in Dean's forehead. He reached a hand out and smoothed them away.

Dean's eyes were closed tight. "Shh. I'm trying to picture you in my head." Dean's hand trailed along Castiel's jaw, and then his fingertips ghosted over his lips. Castiel let out a quiet laugh.

"How's that working out for you?" Dean's hand ran through Castiel's hair then traced his hairline.

Dean grimaced. "Unless you look like a Picasso painting, not so well," replied Dean, who sighed and dropped his hands, only to have them encased in Castiel's, who then lifted them back to his face.

"I'd rather be a jumbled mess than for you to stop," he said.

It was the truth.

He hadn't let himself be touched by anyone else, anywhere. He would shy away from people in hallways, nurses handing him papers; especially male nurses. They scared him the most, terrified him even. Even the relatively nice ones. He tended to keep to himself and hide out in his office when he wasn't needed.

But right then, he wanted it. Gentle touches were something he received so little of, he was sure he was in withdrawal. He liked the warm, calloused skin that ghosted over his own. He was aware of the fact that he needed to shave, but he didn't care, right then all he wanted was comfort.

He knew it was selfish. He knew he should want to comfort Dean instead. But again, he didn't care. He didn't just want it. He _needed _it.

Castiel let a contented sigh roll through his parted lips and Dean ran his hands repeatedly through his hair.

Dean was happy. For the first time in a long time, Dean was actually happy. Castiel's hair was soft as it sifted through his fingers. His stubble was scratchy on his palms, and he liked it. Dean felt Castiel relax under his soft touches, letting out a soft sigh. Dean knew the feeling.

As Dean's hands touched Castiel's face, the picture in his head became just a bit clearer. But there was a piece missing.

"Cas."

"Hmm?" Castiel rumbled contentedly.

"What colour are your eyes?" Dean asked, almost desperately.

"My mother once told me they were bluer than the ocean and the sky, and deeper than the Loch Ness. I never saw her point of view. I only think my eyes are blue," replied Castiel, happy to answer Dean. Remembering his mother had him smiling again. He missed her. She'd had the biggest heart, so big Castiel would wonder as a child how it even fit inside her small frame.

Her big heart had been the death of her; literally. _Cardiomyopathy. _

She was the reason he'd become a doctor.

_FLASHBACK – 17 Years Ago_

_'Mommy?' A seven year old Castiel said, standing inside the doorway to her hospital room; alone. His father was out being a drunkard somewhere, probably hustling away the last of their money. _

_'Cassie. Come here, Sweetie,' replied Meghan Collins, holding out a frail and bony hand to her son. _

_Castiel shuffled quietly to her side, clutching his winter cap and light blue Anorak tightly in his hands. His mom looked so small, swaddled in the stark white blanket. Her dark hair in striking contrast to the white walled room that smelled of cleaning solvents and sickness. Of death. _

_Castiel's brain being much too large to keep anything out conjured up the gruesome question of 'how many people have died in this very same room? On this same bed?'_

_'Cassie, come sit by mommy. Where's your Da?' Meghan said, patting the spot beside her. Castiel used the bedside chair as a step stool and gingerly settled in next to his mother. _

_'Pub,' answered Castiel softly. He felt he had to whisper in this big, white room. For if he didn't, it would collapse on them both. _

_'Oh, Declan,' Meghan tsk-tsked, shaking her head. 'So, you're here all by yourself? I'm sorry, Love. He'll straighten himself out eventually. Now, enough of this sad, nonsense talk. Tell me how you've been.'_

_Meghan let Castiel snuggle into her side, ignoring the increasing pain in her arm and chest. She knew she was close to over and she was scared._

_ She wasn't scared of dying; she was scared of leaving her little boy alone in this big world. Alone with Declan and his drunk habits._

_'I got an A on my grammar quiz. They say I could drop my tutor classes,' Castiel said, idly playing with his mom's hair. It felt like silk between his fingers. _

_Meghan's chest tightened, both from sadness and her impending end. 'Castiel, Baby. I-I need you to listen to mommy,' Meghan said, interrupting Castiel in the middle of a sentence about scraping his knee on the playground._

_'Yes, mama?' Castiel looked up at her with wide blue eyes, her tone telling him something was wrong. _

_'I love you. I love you so, so much, my little angel. You know that, right? You know mommy loves you?' Meghan said, her breaths turning to short pants as she crawled closer to the end of her timeline. _

_'Yes, mama. I love you, too.'_

_'More than the moon and the stars,' said Meghan._

_'Than the sun and the sky,' recited Castiel._

_'More than anything in the world, I love you,' they both finished. _

_Then Meghan grasped her son's hand and gave a last, final squeeze. _

_'Mommy?' Castiel said, as his mother's eyes closed, a pleasant smile on her lips._

_'Mommy. Mommy! MOMMY!' Castiel practically screamed, shaking her shoulder. The EKG machine beside them beeped one last time then flat lined, the sound piercing Castiel's ears like nails on a chalkboard. _

_Suddenly, nurses and doctors were flooding the room and Castiel was being separated from his mother._

_It was then, as little, seven year old Castiel Collins watched in the background as they took his mother away, he decided he would never let another person into his heart._

"Cas? Cas, you all right?" Dean murmured as his fingers traced Castiel's collarbone. He'd noticed Castiel's muscles clenching and unclenching, his pulse racing. His skin was burning slightly, his body shaking.

Castiel didn't answer, only fought to keep the angry tears back, to keep his sadness and anger from letting himself break down again.

"Castiel!" said Dean, grasping one of Castiel's hands in his own. His concern was growing, he was worried. He wanted Castiel to be happy again, not practically pulsing with anger and sadness. Even without his sight Dean could feel the emotions inside Castiel threatening to explode.

Castiel turned Dean's hand palm up and placed a small kiss there, letting out a soft, shuddering sigh before he was falling apart again.

Dean felt Castiel's tears before he actually heard anything. He'd never heard sobbing like this, with sounds so broken and a heart so damaged. He pulled Castiel down and onto his chest, stroking the back of his head and murmuring nonsense things in his ear.

And as Castiel's tears fell onto his skin, Dean suddenly realised…he didn't care. He didn't care he wasn't able to see. He didn't care that all he could do was listen, and touch and taste.

Listen to the broken, despairing sobs that wracked Castiel's body.

Touch the fevered skin, the shaking limbs of a man coming back together after being detached for so long.

And taste the relief. The relief of finally letting go and breaking down the wall he'd worked so hard to build and reinforce.

Both of their hearts were discovering something new. They were discovering a new sense of need and pain.

They needed each other. They needed each other more than the lungs in their body that pumped oxygen that, on worse days, only filled them with poison that choked them.

The pain was good. The pain stitched old wounds. Let the stitches dissolve, let the wounds close and the skin heal over.

They were both cutting the cord on the anvil that hung above their failures, their pain. They were cutting it and letting it fall to crush what was left of it and let it be swept away in a whirlwind of love.

And, if Dean was to be completely honest with himself, he relished the fact that this one man was breaking him down and wiping him clean. Rubbing his skin raw so new skin could grow.

Love's funny like that.

* * *

><p><strong>Little tidbit about me: My grand Da, Gael, died of the same heart disease as Castiel's mother. It's an inside joke with my family…big hearts, we have! <strong>

**Annnnnd now…I'm going to bitch about how short this chapter is and how I tried to stretch it out as long as I could. Look how 'stretching it out' worked…GGRRRAAWWR! **

**Well, I'm tired, my heaters are still out and I can't type with frozen fingers, so G'night to you all!**

**Salt and Burn,  
>Dublin O'Malley<strong>

XOXOX


	7. I Read That Jesus Walked A Stormy Sea

**Hey, everyone! Because I can't think of anymore chapter names having to do with sight, I'm switching it up a bit. The title of each chapter will be lyrics from a song, easy to decode of course, and whoever guesses the song first AND correctly will receive a spoiler in their PM box. You could also help me out and pick the next song (;**

* * *

><p><strong>All right, my lovelies, continue on to the chapter! MWAHS!<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>The Innocent<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7: I Read That Jesus Walked A Stormy Sea<strong>

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><p><strong>Song of the Chapter: Own Stunts- Breathe Owl Breathe<strong>

* * *

><p>Castiel stood in the doorway to Dean's bedroom, watching him as he slept. He knew it was creepy, but he liked the peaceful expression on his face, how relaxed he appeared. Castiel glanced at the bedside clock he'd provided, realising a little too late that Dean wouldn't need it, and saw it was almost ten in the morning.<p>

Castiel kept himself from waking Dean, he just looked so tired. The bags and circles beneath his eyes were dark and heavy, giving him the appearance of someone in their early thirties rather than mid-twenties.

He sighed and turned away from the sight, feeling the familiar ache in his chest that always made itself known when he was around Dean.

* * *

><p><p>

Dean stirred and groaned, blinking groggily. He wasn't too surprised when all he received through his open eyes was those confusing, varying shades of light. He rubbed his eyes, feeling the remnants from the sandman and his magic dust fade away. He yawned and stretched then sat there, unsure of how to begin his day.

He felt for the headboard of the bed and grasped it, standing slowly; he shuffled forward and stubbed his toe on something hard. He winced and backed up, his heel catching the end of Castiel's sleep pants. He twisted and stumbled, knocking something over in the process, and landed hard on his chin.

"Aaargh!" he cried.

"Dean!" came a distant call. The sound of rushing footsteps and Castiel's hands were helping him up.

"What were you _doing_?" asked Castiel, straightening the T-shirt that Dean was currently drowning in. It was an old one of his.

"Walking," Dean grumbled, rubbing his chin. Cool hands were placed over his and he leaned into the touch. Castiel took the hint and wrapped his arms around Dean, resting his head in the hollow of his throat.

"Good morning, Cas," said Dean quietly. He liked this, this sense of peace, not a trace of fear, no worries.

Castiel replied, "Good morning, Dean." He gave Dean's waist a gentle squeeze, loving the feel of how solid he was. Castiel had been alone for so long, hidden away, isolating himself. He'd thought he was doing the right thing by staying away from others, but he'd been wrong.

He now realised how nice it was to be holding someone, to talk to another person, to feel like he wasn't just something in the background.

"Are you hungry?" asked Castiel.

Dean's stomach growled, running on fumes from having not eaten for a day and a half. "A little," admitted Dean.

Castiel moved to separate himself from Dean but Dean clung to him, holding him tightly to his chest. He wasn't quite ready to let go of Castiel. Castiel rubbed Dean's back, completely content with staying in his arms for a little while longer.

It made tears come to Dean's eyes.

There was so much in those simple touches and that gentle embrace. Dean felt like he belonged, like he was actually _someone, _in Castiel's arms. In Castiel's arms, he felt real.

Dean swallowed thickly, idly watching the lights play across his damaged corneas. He rested his chin atop Castiel's head.

Eventually, Dean pulled away, albeit reluctantly. He ran his hand through Castiel's hair once, and then stepped back.

His stomach rumbled again and Dean groaned, putting one hand over his abdomen.

Castiel smiled. "Let's go get you some food."

* * *

><p><p>

"Are you sure you want to wear that coat, Dean? It looks a little small," commented Castiel, sliding on his own coat; a tan trench coat that had been in his possession for some time.

Dean pulled on the cuffs of his sleeves self-consciously. "This is the only one I have," said Dean. He hadn't told Cas everything about how he was treated while living with Sam. He still hadn't told him a lot of things, but he planned to. He didn't want to keep anything from him.

"Here," said Castiel, reaching into the hall closet and bringing out an old leather jacket. From what he could remember, it had been expensive and he'd been going through a phase, one that involved dangerous guys, leather, spikes, eyeliner and things he'd rather not think about.

He gently slid Dean's old coat off his shoulders and helped him thread his arms through the sleeves of the new one.

It was perfect.

"It fits great," said Castiel. _A little too great_, thought Castiel. The jacket outlined Dean's evenly muscled frame. He shoved the thought away, feeling guilty about thinking of Dean that way.

He placed a slightly shaky hand on Dean's shoulder and led him out the front door.

* * *

><p><p>

Dean felt like a new man wearing Castiel's jacket. He felt like a new man holding Castiel's hand as they walked the small distance from Castiel's apartment to the coffee shop. He just felt new.

Dean hadn't realised how close Castiel lived to where he worked. He wished he could see him and not the jumbled mess of grey, blue and various parts of the upper body. Maybe he'd passed him in the street and not even noticed. It made Dean wonder how much he'd missed by keeping his head down.

"Well, here we are. Cup O'Bliss. I've never actually been inside, but it's been recommended to me many times," said Castiel, pulling to a stop.

Dean smiled. "Well, let's go inside then," said Dean, letting himself be pulled along by Castiel. The bell above the door tinkled and Dean sighed as he was engulfed in the smells of coffee beans, creamer and the sounds of light chatter.

Castiel helped Dean over to a table and helped him sit down.

"I'll be right back. Don't knock anything over while I'm gone," said Castiel, kissing Dean's cheek before walking away.

Dean touched his cheek absently, a small smile on his lips.

"Dean." Dean jumped and nearly knocked his chair over. "Relax, it's just me," said Alistair. Dean exhaled.

"Don't do that!"

"Sorry, just came by to see how you were doing. Gabriel's taking over for a bit. So, all your parts there? Not missing anything, right?" asked Alistair, watching as Dean toyed with the sunglasses over his eyes.

"More or less," said Dean quietly, who removed the glasses.

"Well, shit. How you dealing with that?" asked Alistair, squinting at Dean's milky white eyes. Dean pointed to his chin where a bruise was forming.

"I can't walk yet, we're working on it," said Dean. He was comfortable around Alistair, he was one of the few people that Dean felt safe around. He was on the even smaller list of people who Dean trusted.

Alistair patted Dean's hand. "Well, you let me know if you need anything. The shop's always open." Alistair stood and walked back behind the counter, ready to deal with the elderly woman was currently threatening to beat Gabriel down with her cane if she didn't receive a discount on her muffin.

Dean idly listened to the conversation with a smile on his face.

"Well, hey there…Dean," sneered a voice behind him.

Dean froze and closed his eyes, fear lancing through his heart. No, no, no. It couldn't be, not here, not now. Dean bit his lip, tasting blood.

No.

* * *

><p><p>

Castiel turned with the two British Toffee cappuccinos and box of croissants just in time to see Sam lean over the back of Dean's chair.

Dean's body was tense, his fingers gripping the edge of the table, his lower lip trembling. Dean looked as if he were about to cry. Sam was whispering in his ear and Castiel felt the familiar bubble of anger rise in his throat like bile. He set their breakfast down on the counter and walked quickly to Dean's side.

"Sam," he muttered gruffly. He felt a sense of pride at the sight of Sam's face. A dark purple bruise donned his right cheek and cut on his left. His right eye was swollen and his lip was split. "You need to leave."

"Why? This is a public place. I have every right to be here," said Sam, straightening to face Castiel, who was trying very hard not to hit him again.

"But you don't have the right to taunt Dean. Either you leave and find another place for your coffee, or I throw you out myself." Castiel crossed his arms over his chest.

The coffee shop had long since gone completely silent as it watched the confrontation.

Sam snorted. "I'd like to see you try. I told you this whole standing up for yourself wouldn't last long. I've come to take him home," Sam said, placing a hand on Dean's arm and hauling him to his feet.

That did it.

Castiel grasped Sam's wrist and twisted, causing him to cry out and release Dean, who stumbled away and into the condiments cart. Everyone in the shop had frozen, eyes flicking back and forth between Sam and Cas like a tennis match.

"Leave."

"Make me." Sam swung hard, aiming for Castiel's chest. Castiel blocked it with his forearm and grabbed his wrist again; twisting it behind his back and pushing Sam face down on the table. Sam grunted with the force.

Castiel leaned forward so his lips were an inch away from Sam's ear. "Leave, now. Don't come back," Castiel whispered viciously, pushing Sam out the door, who nearly stumbled into a parked car.

Castiel immediately turned and rushed to Dean's side. He was standing frozen in front of the condiments cart. Castiel placed his hand on Dean's face.

"Dean? Are you okay?" Castiel asked.

"Oh, Cas," said Dean, his bottle lip trembling, throwing his arms around him. The shop exploded into applause as Castiel held Dean tightly.

Dean pulled away slightly. "Cas, I…I love you," he said, his unseeing eyes watering.

"I love you, too, Dean," Castiel said and pulled him in for a kiss that sent the shop into another fit of applause.

* * *

><p><p>

**Damn you, chapter 7! Y U NO B LONGER? **

**Sigh, sorry everyone. I've got to plan a New Year's Eve party and haven't started yet! So, I thought I'd get this out before crunch time. **

**Remember, I love you all, you guys are awesome and try to guess the song (;**

**Salt and Burn,  
>Dublin O'Malley<strong>

**XOXOX**


	8. May the Watchers Become Warriors

**I am not going to tell you all Happy New Year because you are all aware, I'm sure. I've lately found myself so down and I couldn't tell you why. Teenager's Depression? Anyway, enough of my bitching.**

**If it wouldn't be too much to ask of you, my lovelies, could you please let me know whether you are viewing my story on an iPod or laptop or if you alternate? This will make chapter lengths a lot easier to calculate. Hard to explain.**

**Chapter is dedicated to Fhyre., who guessed the song correctly first. (: Thanks for the Song of the Chapter, too. **

**AND OH MY GOSH! I have the biggest surprise for you guys. It's gonna, how you say, 'freak you out'. Cause…I'm awesome ;) Next chapter…all will be revealed.**

* * *

><p><strong>The Innocent<strong>

**Chapter 8: May The Watchers Become Warriors**

**Song of the Chapter: Never Let Me Go- Florence and the Machine**

* * *

><p>Dean fidgeted in his seat beside Castiel, an impressive pout donning his lips.<p>

"I don't see the point, Cas. Really, I don't need new clothes," said Dean, crossing his arms over his chest, which felt considerably lighter.

Castiel had said it. He loved Dean. He really did. Just thinking about it made Dean smile and a light blush stain his cheeks.

Castiel glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and grinned.

Castiel felt as if a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders. Something else was weighing down on his heart now; his newfound love. But he liked it, the tightness in his chest, the electric shocks that coursed through his body every time he touched Dean, kissed him.

"Stop acting like a five year old. You need new clothes and we certainly are not going back to Sam's to get your old ones. So, you can pout all you want, but we're getting you clothes," said Castiel, patting Dean's knee. Dean grasped Castiel's hand, twining their fingers together. Castiel turned his head and smiled.

"Sorry. I'm just not used to all this. It's all new to me," said Dean, caressing the back of Castiel's hand with his thumb.

"There's no need to apologise, it's new to me, too. Love isn't something I've seen much of in my lifetime," replied Castiel, squeezing Dean's hand. "But I'm glad I get to experience it with you." Castiel lifted their intertwined hands and kissed the top of Dean's, causing him to blush furiously.

Castiel pulled into an open parking space as close to the front of the Manhattan Mall he could get without running over any pedestrians.

Dean opened the door and very, very carefully, extracted himself from Castiel's car. He managed to do so with a small amount of stumbling and a lot of help from Castiel.

Dean huffed, "I feel like a child."

Castiel raised an eyebrow. "If you keep pouting like that, you'll start looking like one, too," said Castiel, grabbing a hold of Dean's hand. Dean turned his head and glared at what he thought was Castiel…but was really a handicap sign.

They walked carefully through the parking lot, earning a few curious stares as Dean nearly fell down the steps.

Castiel pitied Dean. He didn't know what it was like to have so much trouble with normal mundane things.

Castiel helped Dean through the door and guided him over and down onto a bench. Dean sat down gratefully, breathing heavy.

"Ugh! This sucks!" Dean said, pulling off his sunglasses and depositing them in his coat pocket. He ran his hands, frustrated, through his hair. Castiel put an arm around Dean's shoulders as Dean dropped his head into his hands. Castiel rubbed his back.

"Come on, Dean. Don't be like that. You've still got me," said Castiel. Dean turned to him and smiled, squeezing his knee gratefully.

"Thanks, Cas."

"Anytime. Now, let's get you some clothes, shall we?" Castiel helped Dean gently from the bench and put an arm around his waist. Dean stomach rumbled so loud, Castiel's eyebrows rose in surprise. "You're hungry again?"

Dean smiled sheepishly. "I've got a big appetite. You're gonna go broke because of this monster," said Dean, patting his stomach.

"Well, I'm sure we can tame the beast with an early lunch," replied Castiel, towing Dean towards the food court.

Ten minutes later, Castiel was loaded down with a large amount of Chinese food and two soft drinks that were in danger of becoming the custodian's problem. He was just turning around with his leaning tower and had about two seconds to react before the plastic fairy wand, being wielded by a five or six year old in a pink tutu and matching princess tiara, smacked right into the tray, sending all its contents down the front of Castiel's light blue sweater.

"Caelan! Oh my goodness, I am so sorry, sir!" A woman in her early twenties hurried over and immediately began helping Castiel pile the ruined food back onto the tray. She looked completely frazzled; her dark hair piled into a messy bun was coming undone as she worked to pick up the mess. Her glasses balanced precariously on the tip of her nose.

Castiel couldn't help it; he laughed. "Careful, you'll give yourself a complex."

The woman froze, and then abruptly started laughing along with him.

"Look, I'm really sorry about your food. I'd pay for it but we really have to get back to the book store," she said, pushing her glasses up her nose. "Um…" she patted her pockets and let out a soft 'aha!' as she pulled a small white card out of her pocket. "Here, stop by the store later and I'll figure something out. Again, I'm really sorry…"

"Castiel Collins," he said, extending his hand. She shook it and smiled.

"Anna Harvelle. Nice meeting you, Castiel!" said Anna, scooping Caelan up into her arms and scurrying away.

"That. Was odd," said Castiel with raised eyebrows. He looked down at the tray of food and sighed, most of it looked salvageable. He dropped the tray onto his and Dean's table, a small grimace turning the corners of his mouth.

"Is everything okay? What was all the commotion?" asked Dean.

"I was attacked by a fairy and her evil magic wand," explained Castiel, taking a bite of the now slightly soggy Lo Mein.

Dean snorted. "I wish I could've seen that," he said.

"I got her mom's card," said Castiel, glancing at the little white rectangle. '_Anna's Library_', it read. An address was printed at the bottom.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Should I be jealous?"

Castiel laughed. "I don't think so. Last time I checked, she was a woman." Castiel wrapped an arm around Dean's waist and gave him a gentle squeeze. "Oh, here are your egg rolls," said Castiel, handing him the bag.

"Thanks, Cas," said Dean. Castiel rubbed his arm.

"Welcome."

Suddenly, Dean started laughing.

"What's so funny?" asked Castiel, trying to hold back his own laughter; Dean was contagious.

"M-Maybe we both ne-ed to work on walking," he spluttered.

"Ha ha, finish your egg rolls, cripple," said Castiel.

"Eat your Lo Mein, Picasso."

* * *

><p>"We're here," said Castiel, pulling the car to a stop in front of a homey looking little shop. Castiel helped Dean out of the car and they hobbled to the shop door. Castiel opened and waited for Dean to feel his way along the door frame before he stepped in.<p>

Castiel stared in awe at the books that lined the walls from ceiling to floor. Books were stacked everywhere, boxes were filled with books. One particularly large table in the centre of the room was loaded down with what looked like an A to Z encyclopaedia collection.

"Castiel!" came a high-pitched squeal. Castiel turned just in time to see the little pink assassin barrel through the book shop.

"Mommy! It's Castiel! He's here!" Castiel let out a soft 'oof' as the little girl attached herself to his leg. Castiel's eyebrows were in his hairline when Anna appeared, her face clearly apologetic.

"Cael! Leave the poor man alone!" she scolded, using hands that must have been coated with non-stick spray to pry Caelan from his leg. "I'm sorry. We don't get many visitors."

"It's not a problem." Castiel smiled then patted Dean on the shoulder. "This is Dean."

Dean stuck out his hand, apparently wanting to shake hands with the bookshelf. Castiel guided his hand to Anna's and Dean smiled weakly.

Anna didn't seem too surprised by Dean's blindness. She did take a closer look, and then shook Dean's hand, seeming completely at ease with it. Like she was used to it.

"You've got a good man here, Dean. He took a fairy wand in the gut just to save your food," said Anna.

Dean smiled and slid an arm around Castiel's waste, pulling him closer. "Oh, I know," said Dean, beaming at Castiel.

Anna clapped her hands. "All right, time for my payment for ruining your lunch. Follow me, boys," said Anna, walking towards a beaded curtain.

"Lead the way," said Dean.

The walked to the back of shop, nearly knocking over a stack of books, and then brushed the beads aside to reveal a small table set with plates of sandwiches and glasses full of lemonade.

A boy about Caelan's age sat on a chair in the corner, facing the wall, an iPod in his hands and earphones in his ears.

"Dane!" Anna called. She sighed and walked over to the boy, yanking a headphone out.

"Dinner time. Wash your hands," said Anna.

Castiel noticed that Dane was wearing thick black sunglasses, similar to Dean's.

"All right," said Dane softly. He shuffled over to the sink. Anna noticed Castiel watching Dane, sadness filling his eyes.

"Castiel, can I speak with you for a second?" asked Anna, motioning towards the main store.

"Sure." Castiel followed Anna down a narrow hallway, where she stopped him.

"We've got to talk," she said, her face dead serious, but also holding the expression of someone who'd just seen a ghost. She reached into the back pocket of her jeans and pulled out a small picture.

Castiel slapped his own back pocket, digging around only to find empty denim. "Where'd you get that?" asked Castiel, his eyes filling with angry tears.

No one was allowed to touch that picture but Castiel. No one.

* * *

><p>Dean sat somewhat uncomfortably at the table, nibbling at his sandwich slowly.<p>

"Is Cas your boyfriend?" Caelan asked curiously.

Dean thought about that. "Yeah, I guess he is. Can I ask _you _a question?" Dean carefully lifted his glass of lemonade to his lips, pleased when he didn't spill anything.

"Why'd you attack him with a fairy wand?" asked Dean, raising an eyebrow.

"I didn't!" she exclaimed, clearly distressed.

Dean tried to hold back his laughter. "Calm down, kid. I was only joking," said Dean. He felt a lot more comfortable around children than adults. Adults were capable of serious damage, and children were seriously susceptible to it. So, Dean felt like he could do something, if the time ever came, to protect them if needed.

He'd always wanted a little brother or sister; and after Jensen died, a niece or a nephew was out of the question.

"My turn," came Dane's voice from the far side of the table.

Dean, completely oblivious to Dane's similar impairment, nodded. "All right, shoot."

"How'd you go blind?" said Dane, in that quiet, inquisitive way of his.

Dean blanched and held back his angry tears. They weren't sad tears anymore; they were tears of pure anger. He was angry with himself for not realising sooner that he could be free, angry with Sam for doing this to him.

"I was…I had and…accident," Dean said slowly.

"What kind of accident?" asked Dane.

Dean closed his eyes and turned his head, willing the tears to go away. He didn't want to cry in front of these two kids.

Two little arms snaked around his waist and he nearly jumped in surprise.

"Don't cry, Dean," came a soft little voice. He patted Caelan's head.

"I won't," he whispered, wiping at the tears that were threatening to fall. "I was hit when I was little and up until about three days ago, I still was. But now, that bad man's outta my life."

"And now you have Castiel?" asked Caelan, burying her face into Dean's neck as if she'd known him all her life.

"Yeah, now I have Castiel."

Caelan said, "Well, Dane was born blind."

Dean started. "Dane's blind?"

"Yeah, I am," said Dane. "It's kinda weird isn't it? Do you see any colours?"

"Nope, just different shades of light. Do you?" said Dean, feeling his anger drain away and he sat Caelan on his knee.

"Nope. But I heard some people can. Are you and Castiel going to come over again? You're kinda cool," said Dane.

"You're not too bad yourself, kiddo. And I'm sure I could convince him to let us hang out again," said Dean, tickling Caelan's side.

She shrieked. "Ah! Dean! Stop it! That tickles!"

"Make me!" Dean laughed, continuing his torture.

* * *

><p>Castiel reached for the picture.<p>

"Answer me!" he said angrily. "Where did you get that?"

Anna was looking at the picture wide-eyed, her fingertip stroking the smiling face positioned next to a young boy with wild dark hair and bright blue eyes.

"It fell out of your pocket when Cael knocked your tray over," Anna whispered.

"So, that gives you the right to take it?" asked Castiel. He wasn't even bothering to wipe away the tears that flowed freely down his cheeks.

"I know who she is, Castiel. And I know who you are, too. I need to show you something," said Anna, wiping at her own eyes. She handed him the picture and he took it gratefully, pressing it to his chest. He followed her slowly down the hallway until she stopped at a picture frame hanging on the wall, surrounded by pictures of cats and dogs; surprisingly some of them were Dane's.

Castiel's breathing stopped, and then came in short pants. He looked to Anna, who was watching him expectantly, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Hi, Castiel. Long time, no see," said Anna.

* * *

><p><strong>Happy sigh. I'm really pleased with the length of this chapter. Have you guys figured it out yet? If you have, don't tell me! SHHH! :O<strong>

**Well, blah. Blah, blah. Blahblah, blah blaaaah AND blah! :D**

**That was a very intelligent sentence. Yo soy muy inteligente. ;) AND my Spanish rocks…**

**Salt and Burn,  
>Dublin O'Malley<strong>

XOXOX


	9. Oh My Darling, Make It Go Away

**First off, this is long overdue. *le big breath***

**Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU SO MUCH for all the awesome feedback on this story. I hope you are all enjoying it as much as I am. Really, you know as much as I do; I write as I go. The plot could change drastically and Gabriel could be brought back from the dead (sorry, everyone, I love him too, but that's not going to happen *sad face*) and it's SOOO wonderful to know that I have you faithful readers who would stick by me, no matter what. **

**Now, all is revealed in this chapter**

**Special Mention for guessing the song: HaventMetMyAngelYet **

**Thanks, hun. Spoiler in your inbox ;D**

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><p><strong>The Innocent<strong>

**Chapter 9: Oh My Darling, Make It Go Away  
><strong>

**Song of the Chapter: Hold You All Night- Levi Kreis  
><strong>

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><p>"Hi?" said Castiel. He looked from Anna to the picture of his mother on the wall, and then back to Anna.<p>

"Don't you remember me, Cas? Come on, it's only been a decade or so," said Anna, that smile still in place. Castiel cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing in concentration. Then his eyes widened and his arms hung limp at his sides.

"Little Anna? My little Annie?" croaked Castiel, emotions bubbling up in his throat. He swallowed thickly. "Is that really you?"

Anna nodded, her smile faltering as tears welled up in her eyes. "Hey, big brother, it's good to see you again," she said, a small sob of pure joy escaping her lips as she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face into his neck.

Castiel did the same, wrapping her tightly in his arms, his happy tears falling in her hair. "I thought they took you away," he whispered brokenly. "I thought I was never going to see you again. I thought I'd lost you."

"I missed you so much, Cassie," Anna sobbed.

"Shh. Shh. It's all right, I'm here now. _We're _here now," said Castiel, rubbing her back like he had Dean's.

When Gabriel had been beaten to death by Castiel's father, they'd taken Anna away because Castiel refused to go. His father had been charged with murder, child abuse and neglect. Declan was in prison for fifteen years, he'd only gotten out a few years ago.

But Castiel wasn't as naïve as the children his age, he knew what was wrong and he knew what he had to do about it.

Castiel felt he couldn't leave his mother alone with Declan, even on parole, not after witnessing what he was capable of; the damage he could bring to his sick mother.

So, he'd stayed. Only a year later his mother passed and Castiel was taken in by foster parents, Lech and Maya McCoullacough. They were young and excited about having a child, but Castiel stayed neutral.

He had never loved them, not like he was supposed to. They were overbearing, too eager and constantly taking up Cas's personal space. He'd liked them, but he hadn't loved them.

And eventually, Lech had grown tired of Castiel's tantrums as a child and had resorted to a style of discipline he was more familiar with. Slapping. Declan had done it multiple times to Castiel before being hauled off to jail and now Castiel had to deal with it all over again.

Maya had just stood by, unable to do anything and too much of a coward to try.

So, when he couldn't take it anymore, he ran away at the early age of sixteen.

**_FLASHBACK- Nine Years Ago_**

_"Mom, Da," said Castiel, inwardly grimacing at those two names; names that were saved for his real parents. The real parents that had left him alone and angry at the world. Left him with these people who _

_"Hey, Castiel." Lech popped into the foyer, smiling widely, his once red hair now greying behind his ears. _

_Castiel pushed his glasses up his nose; a nervous habit of his. "We need to talk," Castiel said simply, gesturing to the couch in the centre of the small room. _

_Lech's smile faltered a bit but he obliged, Maya trailing behind him, casting a curious glance at Castiel. _

_Cas sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "There's really no easy way to say it, so I'm going to be blunt." He looked between Lech and Maya, meeting both their eyes before he spoke. _

_"Mom. Da. I'm gay."_

_Castiel waited anxiously for his parents reactions. Maya was the first to speak._

_"Oh, sweetie, no you're not," she said, smiling like she knew something he didn't. _

_Castiel scoffed. "Excuse me?"_

_"You're not gay, Castiel. You're just confused. It's all right to be experiencing these feelings at your age," said Maya, reaching out to Castiel who jerked back in surprise. _

_"I am not confused," he snapped, straining to keep his voice even and calm. _

_"Of course you are," said Lech, his tone hard, his expression stony. "No son of mine will like men. You are not gay."_

_Castiel gave him an incredulous stare. "Your son? _Your _son? I am not your son. You _don't _know me. You don't know what I've been through."_

_"Watch your tone, young man. You will speak to me with respect-," began Lech, but Castiel interrupted him with a sharp bark of a laugh; it held no humour. _

_"Respect? You _earn _respect. You earn it by showing it, by showing _love_. Don't you think I've had to deal with being hit enough? Being tormented? Being humiliated by my so-called 'parents'? I'm sick of it. I am leaving. I'm not coming back."_

_Lech sneered, his ugly side beginning to make itself known. "Where will you go? From what I understand, you have no friends. You have no money." Lech paused then sneered. "You have no family."_

_To Castiel's surprise, he didn't react as badly to that last comment as he would have expected. Instead, he cocked his head to the side and stared at Lech, his piercing blue gaze challenging Lech's light green one. _

_Castiel let out a soft chuckle, turned on his heel, grabbed his backpack (that practically everything he owned anyway) and walked out the door, ignoring Maya's desperate pleas and never once looking back. _

Anna and Castiel walked back into the kitchen smiling hugely. Castiel was happy to prove Lech wrong. He did have family, and he'd finally been reunited with them after all those years of being lonely.

He had Dean. He had Anna. And if things went as well as he hoped, he would soon have a niece and a nephew.

They entered the kitchen to find Dean furiously tickling a squealing Caelan.

"Uncle! Unnnclllee!" she screamed and gasped as Dean finally relented. As soon as he removed his hands, Cael gave a counter attack, her fingers tickling Dean's ribs, who squealed nearly as high as Caelan.

"Okay, okay! I give, I give! You win!" gasped Dean, tears on his face from laughing too hard.

Castiel laughed and Dean turned, a happy smile donning his face, something Castiel was beginning to see more and more of. It made him happy, making his heart swell and his chest fill with love for the older man.

"Dean, it's time to go." Castiel watched as Dean and crossed his arms, Caelan mimicking him.

"I don't wanna," said Dean, sticking out his lower lip. Caelan nodded her head seriously.

"Yeah, he doesn't wanna," she repeated.

Anna raised an eyebrow. "Don't make me put you two in time out. Don't put it past me, Dean. Big boy or not, Hell hath no fury like a mother's scorn," she said threateningly.

Dean grumbled. "Fine. See you later, sweetie. You too, Dane," Dean said, helping Cael slide off his lap. She pouted impressively, her little lower lip thrown out like a professional.

"Now, now, Caelan. Don't want to be a bad influence on Dean, do we?" said Anna over her shoulder as she helped Cas and Dean through the shop.

She patted both their shoulder's as they reached the front door. "Come back anytime, boys. It was good seeing you, Castiel. And Dean, if you don't want to risk 'death by fairy wand' then you should come and visit again, Caelan absolutely adores you."

"Yes, ma'am," said Dean, grinning like an idiot as he slid into the seat beside Castiel.

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><p>Castiel and Dean were lying side by side on Castiel's bed, their hands intertwined, the lights off. The darkness was comforting to Dean, it was much less confusing than the swirling shades of light that continually battered his eyes during the day.<p>

Dean smiled as he thought of Caelan, the sweet little thing. Dean couldn't even see her, but he was already wrapped around her little finger. And Dane, the brave kid. He seemed to be handling his being blind very well. He didn't complain, he didn't whine (not like Dean).

Castiel's raspy voice broke through the content silence, sending a small shiver down Dean's spine. He loved Castiel's voice. But that may have had to do more with the fact that all he could do was listen. And he was completely fine with doing that.

"What are you thinking about?" Castiel asked, turning on his side to look at Dean, watching as the sliver of moonlight streaming through the old blue curtain highlighted Dean's hair and face. He found himself staring at his lips. He liked Dean's lips.

"It's kind of stupid. Don't laugh at me," said Dean. Contrary to popular belief, Dean was extremely shy. He put on a tough guy façade when he went to work, when he was actually capable of keeping his emotions to himself. But when he was alone, he let it drop, let his shoulders slump and let his fake smile slip away with the rest of him. When dean was alone, he felt like he had nothing to live for.

"I won't laugh."

Dean fidgeted. "I was thinking about your voice."

Castiel cocked his head to the side. "My…voice?" he asked, his tone sounding adorably confused to Dean.

Dean could feel his cheeks burning. "I like your voice. It makes me happy and relaxed and comfortable." Dean paused. "You know, before my Uncle Balthazar moved to Australia he would always tell me you could see a person's soul through their eyes. But it's not like that with you."

Dean stopped, turning away from Castiel and smothering himself with the pillow. He breathed out an embarrassed sigh. Castiel was silent.

"See, I told you it was stupid," Dean muttered.

He felt a hand brush his collarbone, something Castiel did that Dean found very comforting.

"What's it like, then? I'd really like to know, Dean. I don't think it's stupid," said Castiel, brushing his fingertips lightly over Dean's collarbone, up his neck, across his jaw and then repeating.

Dean let out a soft sigh. "It's like I can see your soul through your voice." Dena paused and fiddled with the ring he wore on his left hand. Castiel would ask him about it later, right now he really wanted to hear what Dean had to say.

Dean continued. "It's like…coming home." Dean removed the pillow from his face and turned on his side, his knees brushing Castiel's as he faced the younger man. "Do you know how long it's been since I've felt that, Cas? Damn near forever."

"Dean," Cas whispered, his voice full of emotion at Dean's loving words.

"Let me finish. I don't think I could ever repay you for all you've done for me. It's just I…I love you so much, and it kills me that that's all I can give you in return," said Dean dejectedly, his voice sounding small.

Castiel suddenly wrapped his arms around Dean, pressing him to his chest. Castiel kissed Dean's hair, letting his lips linger as he closed his eyes and willed away his emotional tears.

"Dean, you've given me more than I could have ever hoped for. You've given me everything I've ever wanted. I haven't know the feeling of love since Gabriel died. I haven't let myself be touched by anyone. Then you come along and it's like rays of sunshine after being in the dark for too long. It hurts a bit, but I'll adjust and get used to it.

"I love you just the way you are; blind or not. You're beautiful to me, Dean. I was wrong to let myself be cut off for so long. You've changed me, in more ways than one."

Dean was weeping silently as Castiel spoke, his heart wrenching at his words. Dean lifted his hands to Castiel's face, cradling his jaw softly. He leant forward, giving a Castiel a chance to say stop, to tell him to take it slow. He didn't.

Dean touched their lips together gently, hesitantly. Dean felt that small spark just as Castiel did. It wasn't a flame just yet, but it was creating a dull burn in their chests that ached for the other.

The carefully began to move their lips, almost in sync. Dean's hands cupped the back of Castiel's neck as the younger man found purchase in the light blue T-shirt on Dean's body. His hands fisted in the fabric as the love in that kiss nearly tore him to pieces. The walls around his heart couldn't take it anymore, the plaster and bricks cracking as the love overflowed and filled him, leaving the concrete to drop away and disappear into nothing.

Dean felt as if he would burst at the seams as he grasped Castiel's hair, slightly deepening the kiss. The two men were shaking, the aching need to be held nearly breaking them both. Dean wanted this, _needed _this. He wanted to feel it, to let it in and fill him.

When they finally parted for breath, Dean pressed their foreheads together, letting their breaths mingle in the otherwise silent room. Without saying a word, Dean pressed a kiss to Cas's temple and tugged the blue and white quilt over the both of them. Castiel immediately curled into Dean, their arms locked around each other in a sweet embrace.

Neither had to say it because it was already known. Their mingling breaths and happy smiles said it all.

_I love you_.

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><p><strong>Hey, hey, hey! Good, eh? Reckon I should do fluff more often! Yay! Fluffy Castiel! Erm…excuse me…xO<strong>

**Oh and to FhyreNIce, I sort of skipped ahead. Dean and Castiel have known each other for about two and a half to three weeks tops. **

**It's funny how love can be so quick…**

**Reviews are accepted, not required, but loved.**

**Salt and Burn,  
>Dublin O'Malley<strong>

XOXOX


	10. Of Course I Would, Of Course I Should

**GrrrrAWWWRR! My knee fucking HURTS! ARGH! **

**Well, I think you all are going to enjoy this chapter, particularly the part when...read on! :D  
>And see if you notice my Fangirlish classic rock mentions. I think it's in there twice, just making sure you know I love ACDC!**

**I drawed a skull today... :3 My mom thought I was going Skitzo on her... I said: Why, no, mother, I am just being 'out there'! **

**...she walked away and hasn't looked me in the eye since...stupid moms...**

**All right, my lovelies, enough of my rambling!  
><strong>

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><p><strong>The Innocent<strong>

**Chapter 10: Of Course I Would, Of Course I Should  
><strong>

**Song of the Chapter: Simple Man- Lynyrd Skynyrd**

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><p>"Dammit, Dean, get up!"<p>

Castiel tugged on Dean's ankles as a tired, grumpy voice grumbled 'no' from beneath the pillow. Castiel narrowed his eyes and huffed, dropping Dean's ankles. He grabbed the edge of his blue comforter and tugged, only to find Dean gripping it tight around himself.

"Dean! _Come on_! We have to start your physical therapy!" Castiel shouted, giving another hard tug. Dean only grumbled.

"Make me," said Dean snarkily. Pulling the blanket tighter around himself.

Castiel dropped the comforter, about ready to give up, when he had an idea. His eyes narrowed and a mischievous smile curved his lips.

"Fine. You don't wanna get up?" Castiel climbed onto the bed and straddled Dean's hips.

"What're you- AH!" Dean cried out in surprise when Castiel's fingers tickled his rib cage mercilessly, eliciting loud, embarrassing giggles from the older man. Dean squirmed beneath Castiel, attempting to shove his hands away.

Castiel only pressed harder, finding that Dean's sides were his most vulnerable. Dean gasped and squirmed, face turning red, breathing hard. His cheeks were wet from his tears of laughter. Though Castiel could stare at that face for hours on end, he knew this had to be done.

"Ah, Cas! Cas, AH! Sto-stop!" Dean spluttered, writhing and flailing. Castiel grabbed Dean's wrists and pinned them above his head with one hand, the other poised for another attack. Castiel loomed above Dean, both men breathing hard. The red in Dean's face was only deepened when he registered their position.

Neither of them moved.

Dean's wrists till held captive, Castiel spoke. "Do you want to get up now?" he said, his voice hoarse and awkward due to the intimacy of the moment.

"Can I get a little incentive?" Dean asked, raising his head just as Castiel lowered his.

Their lips connected tenderly and Dean let out a soft groan. It was so familiar by then that neither thought about it as Castiel released Dean's wrists to tangle his own hands in Dean's short hair. Dean wrapped a hand behind Cas's neck, pulling him closer. Their tempo changed; Dean's teeth worrying at Castiel's bottom lip, Castiel tongue sweeping across Dean's upper.

Dean sucked Cas's lower lip into his mouth and Castiel mewled, proving he quite enjoyed the sensation. Castiel carefully ran his fingers through Dean's hair, lightly scratching. Reluctantly, he pulled away, the need for oxygen becoming urgent.

Dean smiled at Cas, a stunning smile that showed his teeth. A smile that was framed by swollen lips that Castiel desperately wanted to kiss again. He sighed internally and trailed his fingertips down Dean's cheek.

Something awkward breached his thoughts as his nose wrinkled. Dean needed a shower. Bad.

"Dean."

Dean played idly with the hem of Castiel's dark green T-shirt. "Hmm?"

"You…need a shower," Cas said slowly. Dean's eyebrows dipped then shot into his hairline, a comical expression painting his face.

"Oh, crap," Dean muttered. Castiel sighed.

"Oh, crap is right." Cas removed himself from Dean's hips, ignoring the fact that he was slightly aroused, and straightened his clothing, thankful Dean couldn't see as he adjusted himself. There was a faint, warm tingling in the pit of Castiel's stomach that wasn't entirely unpleasant.

Dean's face was slowly turning red as he sat up and wrung his hands in his lap. "So, uh, I guess we should, uh…take care of that?" Dean fumbled, his words forming a question instead of a statement. Dean wasn't scared this time, just completely embarrassed by the fact that Castiel was going to have to undress him, wash him and re-dress him. He shivered slightly at the thought, his mind wandering to their shared kiss moments ago.

Castiel rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the sweat on him palms. "Yes, I guess we should." Castiel shuffled forward and helped Dean from the bed, the awkwardness pressing down on him and Dean both.

They made it to the bathroom and Castiel closed the door, he and Dean barely fitting in the small room together. Castiel glanced at Dean, who was looking at his feet.

It wasn't Castiel's job to undress the patients and get them into the hospital provided clothing, so this was very new...and very scary for him. He sighed mentally.

_Now or never, I suppose_, thought Castiel. "Come here," he said aloud. Dean shuffled forward, using the sink as a guide.

Castiel's hand found the hem of Dean's T-shirt before Dean's own stopped him. The older man's head still hung low, his feet shifting self-consciously. Castiel gently placed a finger beneath Dean's chin and lifted his head.

"Do you trust me?" he asked simply.

"I don't know. I supppo-"

"That's not what I asked. Do you trust me?" Castiel repeated.

Dean gulped. "Yes."

"Then I need you to trust me when I tell you it's going to be all right. I'll leave your underclothes on you, all right?" Dean nodded and removed his hands, holding his breath as Castiel gently lifted the old AC/DC T-shirt (something a friend of his had loaned to him and never taken back) over his head and tossed it to the floor. Castiel bit the inside of his cheek as he took in Dean's muscled frame and had to look away as provocative thoughts swirled inside his head. He had to stay focused; he had to stay focused for Dean.

Cas carefully untied the drawstring on Dean's sweatpants, loosening it around his hips. Dean bit his lip and turned his head away, feeling his face and neck warm. His heart was beating so hard and fast, he wondered if Castiel could hear it. He was so nervous; he felt fifteen all over again, making googly eyes at the star center forward on the football team. But he figured his chances of ever getting with Roark were about as likely as the team not scoring a goal.

As Castiel slid Dean's sweatpants down his legs, he tried to ignore the fact that the bruises and scars and cuts were still there. Thinking about them uncovered old memories, things he hoped he could forget soon.

Castiel let Dean's sweatpants drop to the floor and helped Dean step out of them, leaving him standing in a pair of dark blue boxer briefs. They were riding low on his hips and what Cas saw there, turned his vision red. Anger rose in his throat, violent and heavy.

Two handprint shaped bruises, fairly large, were imprinted on Dean's hips. He clenched his fists and teeth, heard them grind together.

"Dean, please turn around." Castiel kept his voice as calm as possible, but Dean heard the underlying tone of pure rage in those four words. Involuntarily, he shook, thinking the rage was directed at him.

Castiel noticed.

"Please, I'm not going to hurt you. Just please, turn around," Castiel said, realising his tone was just short of begging. Dean turned slowly and Castiel rested his hands on Dean's waist. He felt Dean tremble and he wondered if it was because of him. He hoped it wasn't.

Castiel gently nudged the waistband of Dean's underwear down and had to press his thumbnail violently into his index finger to hold the anger inside.

The thumb prints were right above his hip bones. Right above his…Oh, God. Castiel quickly wrapped his arms around a very tense Dean, who whimpered slightly. He buried his face into Dean's neck, feeling the angry tears well up in his eyes, blurring his vision.

"Dean, oh God. Why didn't you _tell _me?" Castiel said, feeling the older man shake as he cried along with him. The thought that Sam had done something so terrible, so _vile _to a creature as beautiful as Dean completely sent Castiel's thoughts into a whirlwind.

What else had Sam done to Dean? Was this the reason why Dean couldn't leave? Just how much had Sam damaged Dean?

Dean's hand was gripping Cas's wrist, holding on for dear life. "I-I'm sorry. I just c-couldn't. I was so ashamed of myself and the things I let him do that I-"

Castiel interrupted him, turning him around fiercely. "Now, you listen to me, Dean Winchester. You have nothing to be ashamed of. What that son of a bitch did to you was unforgiveable. And that's why you're here with me now. I'll keep you safe, Dean." Castiel took one of Dean's hands and turned it over, kissing his palm.

"Now, let's get you that shower, shall we?" said Castiel, removing his jeans and T-shirt, stripping off his socks to be left standing in dark red boxer briefs and nothing else. Castiel started the water and guided Dean into the small shower.

Castiel set to work, trying to assume his doctor's impartiality, and failing. Dean couldn't help but feel Castiel's hard body as he pressed against the other man to allow ease of access to his front.

Dean would be lying if he said he wasn't aroused, he definitely was. And the fact that Cas was running a lathered hand between his shoulder blades and down his back to touch the waistline of his underpants (which were becoming increasingly tight) was not helping any.

Castiel ignored the soft mewling sounds Dean was murmuring, refusing to think about things, such as the ones that were on his mind right now, while they were in this intimate a position. He didn't think Dean was ready, and he wasn't too sure about himself either.

After Castiel had finished rinsing the shampoo from Dean's hair, he moved to turn the water off, hoping to get out, hopefully relieve some of his stress…alone, and get dressed. But Dean's hand on his arm stopped him.

"Now, you," he stated simply. Cas dropped his hand as Dean turned, giving Castiel an eyeful of his boxer briefs. His eyes widened before he looked away, a blush working its way down his neck.

"Are you sure, Dean?" Castiel asked, shoving away the little voice in his head that was screaming '_HELL YEEESSSS! WOOH!'_

"Probably," Dean shrugged, feeling for the bath soap and removing it from its little niche. He lathered his hands and Castiel had to stop himself from licking his lips at the sight of a nearly naked, wet and soapy Dean.

_God, dammit! Why? Why? WHY! Why-_

_Because you're a guy. He's a guy. Ergo. _

_Shut up. Go back to wherever you were vacationing. _

_But…I'm baaaaack, back in blaaaaack! Yes I'm back in bla-_

_SHUT. UP!_

Castiel mentally slammed the lid on his inner monologue/bickering as he realised he was becoming too lost in it. He couldn't let that start happening again. It had taken him years to learn how to control it, the little voice in his head that never shut up, that always spoke at the most inappropriate times. Like now.

As Dean's hands, lathered with mint leaf soap starting rubbing his neck he couldn't hold back the soft "Oh" that escaped his parted lips. His head fell back as Dean cleaned his chest thoroughly, making sure not to miss _anything_. Castiel was sure he was going to explode by the time Dean finally finished.

As soon as Dean had placed the soap back into the niche, Castiel's lips were on his, that voice having encouraged him to do so. Dean let out a surprised gasp and Castiel took the chance to sweep his tongue into Dean's mouth, eliciting a groan from the older man. Hands tangled in his dark curly hair and Castiel gripped Dean's waist as he pressed him against the shower wall.

"Cas," Dean groaned as Castiel placed butterfly kisses on Dean's neck. Dean's legs parted of their own accord and Castiel placed one of his own between them, causing Dean to let out something along the line of 'nGaWAH!'.

Castiel pulled away abruptly, practically ripping his lips away from Dean's.

"_Dammit!_" Castiel shouted, bracing his hands on either side of Dean, bowing his head. The water beat down on his back, having gone long cold during his assault on Dean's lips. He slammed a fist on the wall behind him in anger. Dean jumped, concerned by Castiel's sudden mood swing. Dean reached up and gently touched Castiel's cheek, hoping to provide some comfort.

Castiel breathed hard and pushed off the wall, being sure to distance himself from Dean, careful not to look at him and let that voice take over again. It was nagging at him, he could feel it.

"Cas?" came Dean's tentative voice as he turned his back and stepped out of the shower. He plugged his ears and slowly, ever so slowly, willed the roaring in his ears away. He waited five seconds, just to be safe before slowly removing his hands from his ears and opening his eyes. The voice was silent.

For now.

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><p><strong>Hmm...I'm bored. Sad face. I got a big 'ol white board for my room! :D Happy dance! Not much to say...but<strong>

**'You're a princess, we are penpals, I'ma dragon!'**

**Ha! xD**

**Reviews are accepted, not required, but loved.**

**Salt and Burn,  
>Dublin O'Malley<strong>

**XOXOX**


	11. Life Goes On, It Gets So Heavy

**Hey, everyone! I loved your feedback on the last chapter, all your reviews meant a lot to me! Um, if this chapter has a lot less flow than normal, please tell me so in review. I ran out of my medication, hence the reason why I know some things about what Castiel's going through (though not as severe). **

**I suggest watching the video for Comfortably Numb…it's pretty inspirational…and… am I kidding, it's totally FUCKED UP...  
><strong>

**Enjoy the chapter! :D (Byt he way, it's a little short)  
><strong>

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><p><strong>The Innocent<strong>

**Chapter 11: Life Goes On, It Gets So Heavy**

**Song of the Chapter: Comfortably Numb- Pink Floyd**

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><p>Castiel managed to get Dean and himself dressed, get Dean to sit on the couch and listen to Wheel of Fortune, make him lunch and retreat to his room before the hysteria hit. The tears poured down his face, hot and heavy, the sobs muffled by the pillow he was currently attempting to suffocate himself with. His body shuddered, everything coming back to him at once.<p>

The fact that he couldn't control it, made it that much worse. He'd spent years struggling with that side of him. His doctors called it multiple personalities, but he told them they could shove it up their ass and had done his own research. What he'd come up with sounded just a bit worse. _Bipolar and paranoid delusional schizophrenia. _

He used to take medication for it but he stopped, because the voice told him to. Now, only once a day he took a little yellow pill that evened out his stress and paranoia levels. Just thinking about that _damn _voice made Castiel sob louder, hurling the pillow against the wall.

He'd kept it repressed for so long, so long that his immunity of being influenced by it had completely crumbled. Cas wanted to rip his hair out. He wanted to stomp his feet and scream. He wanted to sit calmly and sort through this rationally, but that part of him was gone now.

He stood and wiped his face angrily with the back of his hand, but the tears didn't stop. Castiel glanced at the paintings hanging on the wall. He'd worked on them for hours, fawned over them when they were done, then had framed them in heavy, ornate, matching frames. He had a moment of calm, the tears stalling. Then, he was out of the eye of the hurricane, the calm gone, completely and utterly and _totally_…gone.

He ripped one from the wall, a painting of New York at night and shoved his fist through it. Through glass and canvas. He didn't feel the pain, only the deep guttural hum of approval from that voice.

"Castiel? Cas, you okay in there?" came Dean's voice and the rattling of the doorknob. He dropped the picture frame, feeling it land on his foot and probably breaking one of his toes. When had he locked the door? Castiel cocked his head to the side and crept towards the door, the storm having taken a vacation in Honolulu.

Cas mechanically unlocked the door for Dean, who stepped inside hands immediately reaching for Castiel who leant forward, letting his jaw be cradled in Dean's large hands.

"Castiel, honey. Are you all right? Wait, what's this?" Dean's hand was attempting to hold Castiel's but the familiar thick liquid dripping down his arm stopped him. Dean's hand trembled slightly as he gently picked up Castiel's hand, gently examining it. There was glass, a lot of glass. The trance-like state Cas had been in slipped away and his face contorted in pain.

"Ah! Ow! What the Hell? Bathroom, bathroom, BATHROOM!" Castiel shouted, rushing out the door and across the hall. Dean followed behind, using the wall as a guide.

Castiel leant over the sink and desperately plucked the glass from his hand and wrist, washing the blood down the drain. He was crying again, the shame washing over him. He hadn't been this emotional in years, his steel barriers crumpling like tin foil.

Hands were on his waist, Dean's voice soft and questioning. "Cas? Can you tell me what happened?" he asked, rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs into Castiel's back. Castiel reached over and turned off the water, not even able to look himself in the eye when he glanced in the mirror.

"I…don't know," Castiel said softly.

Dean rested his chin on Castiel's back. "Does this have to do with earlier?" Dean didn't have to a elaborate for Cas to know what he was talking about. Castiel was silent. "Does it have to do with me?" Dean's voice was just barely a whisper.

Castiel spun around. "No! Of course not. This is about me and my fucked up head." Cas paused and ran a hand through his hair. "I think we need to talk."

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><p>Cas brought his and Dean's tea mugs into the living room, handing Dean his. He sat down heavily on the couch, wondering where to begin.<p>

"_Bipolar. Paranoid Delusional Schizophrenia _is what it's called," he said. "I've had it since I was seven. It was caused by a…traumatic experience. And honestly, I can't blame it." He took a long pull from his tea, letting it burn his tongue and throat, giving him the reassurance that he was still in reality.

"What experience?" Dean asked hesitantly. When Castiel didn't answer, Dean leaned over the side of the couch and set his mug down, then turned back to Cas and placed a hand on his knee, squeezing softly. "You can tell me, Cas," said Dean, rubbing soft circles with his thumb.

"My mother passed away," Castiel deadpanned. But Dean knew better. Beneath his hand he could feel Castiel's muscles clenching, could feel him withdrawing.

"No." Dean reached out a hand and placed it behind Cas's neck, bringing their faces close, but their lips not touching. "Castiel Collins, you will not shut me out. I won't let you. You're done doing that anymore." Dean pressed his forehead to Castiel's and whispered softly, "I'm here now."

They didn't kiss. They did, however, sit for a few moments, letting their breaths mingle and feel each other's warmth in comfortable silence.

"They told me I had a multiple personalities disorder," Cas said suddenly.

"The doctors?"

"Yes. But I knew they were wrong. So I found out for myself and that's what I got. But..." Cas trailed off, debating on telling Dean this last part, on whether or not he could handle it and the memories that always tagged along. _'Hold on for the ride' _Castiel thought.

"But…what?" asked Dean curiously, massaging the back of Castiel's neck. Cas leant into the touch gratefully.

"But…I can't take any more pain. My brother died in front of me, my dad was never around and if he was he was drunkand then my mom died in front of me. I ran away from my foster parents at sixteen-"

"Wait, you ran away at _sixteen_?" Dean said, his hand tightening on Castiel's knee.

Castiel hadn't realised he was crying until he saw the tears dripping onto Dean's hand. Dean placed his hand on Castiel's cheek.

"Hey, _I'm here now_," whispered Dean, running his hand through Castiel's hair and over his face.

Castiel let out a shuddering sob. "But I've fucked up so many times in my life. I've done terrible things and I don't want to bring you into that." Castiel's voice had faded to a whisper as he said those last words. He was terrified that Dean would want to leave him, after learning all these things about him.

"So," Castiel sniffed. "I guess what I'm saying is…this is your chance. This is your way out. I'm giving you a chance to leave before it gets ugly, because trust me, it does." Everyone he'd ever loved, or on some occasion hadn't loved, had left him after finding out this problem of his. It was another reason he kept it all inside.

_He's going to leave, you know. _

_No he won't. _

_Yes. He will. And you know it, too. _

Castiel pushed the voice away, determined to stay focused on Dean.

"Castiel. Do you really think I would leave you?" asked Dean quietly.

"It seems to be a normal reaction."

"Well, I'm going to change that. Castiel…I'm in love with you. And I can't just walk away from that all because of some condition you have." Dean pulled Castiel forward and into his arms, carding his fingers through the silky mess atop his head.

"It hurts _so much_, Dean. I can't make it go _away_," Castiel cried, burying his face into Dean's neck. His fingers clutched at Dean's shoulders, trying to find some purchase in the world that was currently tilting sideways.

"Castiel. _Cas_. Stop. Babe, stop. I've got you," said Dean, rubbing that spot behind Castiel's head that normally calmed him. Not today. Castiel was drowning in self-pity, in self-loathing and in just regular, cuts-like-a-knife pain.

"Dean," Castiel wheezed. He became distantly aware that this was a panic attack. That his body was going cold and he really wanted to sleep. Castiel slumped in Dean's arms and Dean lay back gently, letting Castiel's head rest on his chest as the younger man fell instantly asleep.

Dean lay there for a long while, letting his fingers softly trail through Castiel's hair and over his cheek, listening to the sounds of his soft, stuttering breaths.

_So, this is what love is like? I could get used to this,_ thought Dean. He rubbed Castiel's back as he made soft whimpers, his fingers clutching at Dean's T-shirt. Castiel's arms were wrapped around his waist, clinging tightly to him even in his exhausted state. Castiel had been have a full scale, call-Richter-we-have-another, panic attack.

"You're not as bad as you think," Dean whispered, rubbing Cas's arm, who shifted and rubbed his cheek against Dean's chest.

Dean let his mind wander, thinking about…things. That was really all he could describe it as, was things. Little flashbacks of his childhood, of high school, of Michael, of dance of…everything.

He decided to focus on his mother. On her big blue eyes, her lovely blond hair. Her beautiful smile. She spoke honestly with him, treated him like an adult, even at six years old, Dean understood his mother and the things she told him. Even the bad things, like how bad the beatings were getting. But there were good things too, like when they would draw and paint and sketch, their tickle fights.

He missed, God did he miss her. But he knew that she was in a much better place, smiling down on him, standing beside Jensen and Castiel's brother.

Dean was pulled out of his thoughts by Castiel's soft whimpers. Dean smoothed out the worry lines he felt on his forehead and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"It's all right, I'm here now. I'm not gonna leave you. Not for anything," Dean said into his hair.

"Not for anything?" Castiel murmured, nuzzling his cheek to Dean's chest.

Dean bent and gave Castiel a soft kiss, glad that all his trepidation had gone. Dean let his fingertips trail down his cheek as he pulled away.

"Not for anything," he repeated, a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth. Castiel chuckled.

"What's funny?" asked Dean, running his hands through Castiel's hair.

"Well, I was wondering, is there love at first sight for a blind person?" Castiel said. Dean paused, then threw his head back and howled with laughter.

Dean wiped the laughing tears from his eyes. "You know, Cas, I'd say there is," he said, kissing the top of Castiel's head.

Dean got comfortable on the sofa with Castiel in his arms and Wheel of Fortune playing softly in the background.

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><p><strong>Eh. Not too happy with this chapter, but it's more up to you! :D I cut the inside of my ear! O: OWWIE!<br>If you are at all confused about Castiel's condition or any other part of the story doesn't make sense, please tell me so in your review! :D**

**And I'd like to give a special mention to AC/DC, Pink Floyd and Lynyrd Skynyrd for helping me out with this chapter! Love you!**

**Reviews are accepted, not required, but loved.**

**Salt and Burn,  
>Dublin O'Malley<strong>

XOXOX


	12. Care, It's a Dilemma

**Hello, my Lovelies! Sorry for the late updating, but I was a bit stuck on this chapter, and now I have new story published: Grease Monkeys and Orange Aprons. Check it you, will you. **

**I'm going to stop using lyrics as chapter titles because it's a pain in the ass and...I'm a bit selfish. **

**By the way, I'm totally raping Coldplay songs at the moment, using them for inspiration and then moving on to the next song...*evil laugh***

**Enjoy! XOXOX  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>The Innocent<strong>

**Chapter 12: Care; It's a Dilemma  
><strong>

**Song of the Chapter: Charlie Brown- Coldplay  
><strong>

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><p>Castiel groaned and buried his face deeper into his pillow, which felt strangely hard. He grunted, confused, and lifted his head and saw he was lying on Dean's chest on the couch in the living room. Dim light filtered through his blinds and he squinted, looking up at Dean's face. His mouth was slightly open, and he was drooling, soft snores emanating from his mouth. Castiel moved to get up but Dean's arms tightened around him and his eyes snapped open.<p>

"Mmm? Cas, you awake?" Dean said, rubbing Castiel's back. In reply, Castiel hummed, dropping his head back down, content to wait a while before brushing his teeth. He sniffed.

"You smell better now," Castiel commented, his eyes still closed. This was nice. He was warm and safe in Dean's arms. He could get used to this.

"Good to know. You up for breakfast? What time is it?" Dean replied. Castiel lifted his wrist, too lazy to turn his head to look at the grandfather clock in the room and read his watch. Dean's stomach growled.

"Nearly ten-thirty. You can have breakfast, on one condition."

Dean whined, "But-"

"Uh-uh. No whining. You have to do your physical therapy today. We could go see Anna and see if she has any books in Braille," Castiel said, touching Dean's protruding lower lip. Dean narrowed his eyes at him.

"Fine." He shifted to get up but Castiel stopped him.

"Wait a minute." Castiel tugged on the collar of Dean's T-shirt and pulled him forward, pressing their lips together. After a moment, Dean's fingers tangled into Cas's hair, deepening their kiss. Castiel pulled away, chuckling.

"Best way to wake up…_ever_," Dean groaned, licking his lips.

Cas smiled. "I would agree," said Cas, pushing up on an elbow and ruffling Dean's bed hair. He shoved himself off the couch and padded into the kitchen, listening to the sound of Dean rolling over and grumbling, then a soft thud, suggesting he rolled off the couch. Dean let out a surprised grunt.

Castiel laughed and opened the fridge pulling out the milk carton and setting it on the counter. "You all right in there, Cripple?" Castiel called, chuckling.

"Shuddup, Picasso," was Dean's grunted reply. Some shuffling and Dean appeared around the corner, looking slightly disheveled. Cas set the milk down and put his arms around Dean's waist, letting the older man rest his chin atop his head.

"Ready to eat?" asked Castiel. Dean's stomach growled and Cas chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes."

* * *

><p>They were on their way to Anna's, Dean wearing his new denims and a black and white Anorak. Castiel thought he looked positively gorgeous with his rain soaked hair, and had voiced his opinion many times in the last five minutes.<p>

Castiel glanced at Dean, who was unusually quiet. Castiel reached over and rested his hand on his knee, rubbing soft circles with his thumb above his knee cap. He received no reaction from Dean, who continued to look dejected.

"Dean. You all right?" Cas asked, rubbing his boyfriend's arm.

"Does it bother you that I can't see?" The question was soft, barely a whisper and had Castiel straining his ears to catch the whole thing. Castiel froze, glanced at Dean, and then eased the car to the shoulder.

He turned his entire body to face Dean, blinking rapidly. "Where did that come from?" asked Castiel, reaching across the seat to grasp Dean's hand. Dean bit his lip.

"I feel like a burden to you. You have to change me, bathe me, and help me from room to room. How does that not bother you?" Dean asked, removing the black sunglasses from his eyes, fiddling with them in his lap.

"Dean," Cas sighed. "Do you really want to know?" Dean was silent, his body tense, expecting the worst.

Suddenly, there was heavy pressure on his thighs as Cas straddled him, hands on either side of his face, breath ghosting across his lips.

"It doesn't bother me one bit. In fact, I'd say I enjoy it a little too much. Do you know how many times I've had to restrain myself from touching you? You're beautiful, Dean. So beautiful that sometimes it hurts. And this-" Dean closed his eyes as Castiel's fingers lightly brushed over his eyelids. "-doesn't make me love you any less. I _love_ you, Dean Winchester." Castiel bent his head and pressed their lips together, feeling Dean's hands grasp his waist.

Castiel swiveled his hips and Dean groaned, his pants tightening at Castiel's ministrations. Cas dropped his head and peppered open mouthed kisses to Dean's neck, feeling Dean's hands tighten in his hair. Castiel would be lying if he said he wasn't turned on by Dean's moans and groans.

"_Cas_…" Dean groaned, pulling him up and attacking his lips again. Castiel tucked his hands underneath Dean's shirt, kneading the flesh. Dean bucked his hips, causing both men to curse and pause for a moment. Then Castiel was moving again, grinding his hips leisurely, painfully slowly, into Dean's.

Dean arched, feeling the pleasure pool in his stomach. He had to stop this before it got too out of hand. He wasn't sure either was ready for dry humping each other on the side of the road.

"Cas," Dean gasped. "Cas, please, stop." Dean felt the lips leave his neck, the warm hands falling away. Both men were breathing hard.

"I-I'm sorry. I don't know what happened," Castiel said, feeling a bit embarrassed. His cheeks flamed bright red and again, he was thankful Dean couldn't see his face,

Dean's hand found its way to Cas's face and stroked his cheek softly. "Don't be sorry. It's just I don't want to be doing that kind of thing here…in a car…on the side of I-49. Because trust me, I _do _want it. And I _do _want you. Just not here," amended Dean. Castiel sighed.

"I suppose you're right." He climbed off Dean's lap and slid into his seat but kept their hands intertwined. "And to add on to my earlier answer…not in the slightest. I love taking care of you, Dean. I love seeing you blush when I ruffle your hair. I love having to pull you out of bed."

Castiel pulled away from the side of the road, narrowly avoiding a Prius that could have easily been crushed by his car; or rather _any _car could have squashed that abomination to vehicles everywhere.

Dean cleared his throat. "I wish I could see you, what you really look like. Not what I think you look like, which is very unattractive. I bet you're beautiful," whispered Dean. He 'looked' down and twisted the ring around his finger.

"Compared to the creature sitting beside me, I'm Ugly Betty." The car was quiet for a moment. "I wanted to ask you…what's that ring for?" Castiel inwardly cringed at how prying that sounded. "I mean…only if you want to tell me."

Tears welled in Dean's eyes. "It's Jensen's." Dean spoke quietly, thoughtfully, still twisting the silver band around his finger. Then Dean jumped and looked guilty, sad and pissed off all at the same time. He groaned.

"Dean?" Castiel asked, rubbing his knee.

"I forgot his jacket. I forgot Jensen's jacket at…" Dean trailed off and the familiar mask of fear flashed across his face. Castiel grimaced and clenched his teeth, still completely livid about the damage Sam had caused him.

"I'll go back and get it."

"No, Cas, you can't."

"Yes, I can. And I will. Don't worry about me, Dean, I'll be fine," Castiel assured his boyfriend, squeezing his hand.

"But-"

"No, 'but's, Dean." Castiel's tone told Dean that they weren't going to argue about it any longer.

Dean sat back in his seat and crossed his arms, using anger as a mask to hide his fear and worry and complete despair.

* * *

><p>They walked into the shop together, the bell tinkling. Castiel was prepared as Caelan came charging through the shop. He picked her up and she flung herself at him.<p>

"Castiel! I missed you! Lookit! I lost my tooths!" Cael opened her mouth wide and showed Cas her missing front teeth. It was only then did Castiel notice the lisp. He smiled at that.

"I'm sure the tooth faerie will be pleased," Castiel commented. "Where's your mother?"

"Back here, boys!" Anna called from the kitchen. Castiel led Dean with one hand through the beaded curtain, Caelan on his hip. "Hey," she said, smiling at them, and then returning to washing the dishes. "You staying for lunch?" she asked, gesturing to the bowl of still steaming soup on the bright yellow table. Castiel noticed the state of dilapidation the table was in, the once shiny metal legs now covered in rust and the yellow paint chipping from the table top. The rest of the home/bookshop was much the same, but Castiel decided it was best not to bring it up.

"I'm just dropping Dean off, I have a bit of an errand to run and didn't want him to get lonely," Castiel said and it was partly the truth.

"Oh, that's fine. Dean, grab a seat. Dane! Lunch time!" Anna shouted, turning of the faucet and sharing a smile with Castiel. It was nice to have a sister, someone he could relate with.

"Thanks, Annie," he told her, giving her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, glad they were already so comfortable around each other.

"No problem. Now run along or I'll have to force you to eat," Anna said, shooing him away. Castiel laughed, shaking his head and pushed aside the bead curtain.

* * *

><p>Castiel stared at the door. He had lifted his hand to knock about five minutes ago, but hadn't done anything but breathe shallowly and think about Dean's helpless face when he realised he was missing the jacket. He took a deep breath and knocked loudly.<p>

A thud, the shuffling of feet and then the door unlocking had Castiel on his toes, ready to run if he needed to. When Sam opened the door, Castiel wasn't prepared for what he saw.

Sam looked terrible, eyes red-rimmed and bags beneath them. He'd aged a decade since the last time Castiel had seen him. He was wearing a wife beater and wrinkled track pants. He was barefoot and looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"What do you want?" he asked, not angry, just resigned, tired and completely empty. Castiel almost pitied him, but all the terrible things he'd done to Dean weren't just going to disappear and make him forgive Sam.

"I came to collect a few of Dean's things," Castiel said, keeping his gaze level (erm, as level as he could get with the ridiculous height difference) with Sam's.

Sam stepped away from the door and gestured inside the apartment. As soon as Castiel walked in, he was engulfed in the heady scent of hard liquor. Cas looked at Sam, who pointed down the hall to the only open door in the apartment.

Castiel walked down the hallway as he heard Sam flop down on the couch, with a sigh that closely resembled a sob. Castile stepped into the room and was confused as to why it was so neat and tidy compared to the complete state of disarray the apartment was in.

The bed was made and looked like it hadn't been slept in in years. The carpet looked freshly vacuumed and the mirror attached to the bureau looked recently polished.

Cas set out in search of the jacket, opening drawers and in the closet. When he came up with nothing and was just about to give up, he saw a box shoved into the back corner of the closet, hidden beneath an overcoat and what looked like a pair of Western boots.

Castiel extracted the box from the closet and curiously lifted the first flap. He was met with a face full of dust and coughed. After waving his hand and blinking rapidly, the dust dissipated and Castile saw what was in the box.

A picture of two boys smiling, their arms around each other's shoulders. They looked remarkably alike and Castiel automatically concluded that the boy on the left, the younger looking one, was Dean. Dena looked so happy, despite the bruises that were easily seen on his face, neck and peeking out from beneath his long-sleeve T-shirt.

Beneath the picture, folded perfectly, as if done by a caring mother, was a denim jacket with bleach, grease and dirt stains spotting it at random.

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><p><strong> Don't worry, Sam is NOT going to rape Cas...<em>le nasty<em>!**

**Reviews are accepted, not required, but loved.**

**Salt and Burn,**  
><strong>Dublin O'Malley<strong>

**XOXOX**


	13. Don't Blink

**Kinda short, I know. But I think this is the second to last chapter and then there'll be an epilogue. I don't know if this chapter is confusing or not, but this is what goes on in my head...fucked up, right?**

**The Innocent**

**Chapter 13: Don't Blink**

**Song of the Chapter: Your Ghost- Greg Laswell**

* * *

><p>Castiel having gotten what he needed headed for the front door.<p>

"Hold on a moment." Castiel looked up at Sam's quiet request from the other side of the room. The giant of a man was slumped against the couch cushions, toying with a ring on his left ring finger. His longish hair hung in his face, his chin coated with thick stubble. Sam looked up at Castiel. He seemed to be having an inner battle. Castiel watched him curiously.

Sam sighed. "I-I know it'll never, _never _be enough to make for what I've done to…Dean. Nothing I say or do can take back the pain I've inflicted on him. I know I don't deserve it but…could you tell him I'm sorry? That I didn't realise what I had until it was gone?" Sam's eyes pleaded with him, begged him. Sam dropped his head into his hands. "God, I'm so sorry, Dean," he sobbed so quietly that Castiel barely heard it.

Going against his instinct, he walked over to Sam and placed a hand on his shoulder. When Sam looked up at him, he thought of what Dean had told him:

_'You could see a person's soul through their eyes.'_

And right then, he was seeing the soul of a broken man with a lot of regrets, mistakes and broken pieces that were currently being scattered in the wind. He saw the soul of a man that was really and truly _sorry _for what he'd done. Castiel crossed his arms and shook his head. He needed to think, they both needed to think.

"I'm sorry, too, Sam." And then Castiel was gone. The door closed behind him, and he wasn't exactly sure he heard right, but he could have sworn he heard the words:

_I love you, Dean._

* * *

><p>Castiel pushed through the front door of the shop, hearing the now familiar bell tinkle above his head. The box in his hands, Castiel made his way to the back of the shop, pausing outside the beaded curtain when he heard fits of giggles erupt from inside. He couldn't even force himself to smile as he pushed the curtain aside.<p>

Dean was crouched in front of Cael, his fingers pulling the edges of his lips apart as he stuck his tongue out, making her burst into another fit of giggles. Castiel felt the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, but he didn't have the energy to actually let it spread. He felt emotionally exhausted and right then, all he wanted to do was go home and be with Dean.

"Dean." Castiel spoke quietly, not able to raise his voice any higher than a loud whisper. Dean turned at the sound of Castiel's voice and cocked his head to the side. Dean stood and used the table the table as support as he made his way to Castiel.

Dean's hands cradled his jaw, his thumb stoking his cheek questioningly. "Cas? What's the matter?"

He felt little hands tugging on his pant leg. He looked down into the concerned face of Caelan.

"Yeah. What's the matter, Uncle Cassy?" Caelan asked. Castiel bit the inside of his cheek as the tears threatened to spill from his eyes. He gave her a sad smile.

"Nothing, Sweetie. Dean and I have to-"

"Hello?" came a call from inside the shop. They hardly ever had anyone come by the shop. But there was no mistaking that voice. Castiel blanched and looked at Anna, grabbing her arm as she tried to squeeze past him and into the shop.

"No. You can't go out there."

"Hello?" came another call.

"Stay here," Castiel said to Anna.

Dean was frozen beside him. Castiel took Dean's hand in his own. "Dean, I'm going to go out there to talk to him. He's really upset right now…"

"That makes it even worse!" Dean screeched. "No, Castiel! He might hurt you." Dean's voice dropped low and Cas saw the tears welling. He wiped a stray tear off his cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"Stay here, Dean," Castiel ordered. Cas turned on his heel and marched through the beaded curtain, feeling pissed off as Hell. He stopped in front of Sam, who was still dressed in his track pants and wife beater.

"Castiel, please, I just want to talk to him," Sam said as Castiel advanced on him. Cas felt himself losing control again and realised he'd forgotten to take his medication. Good, no guilt. He brought his fist straight into Sam's nose, effectively shattering the cartilage and probably his knuckles. Sam's hands shot to his face as he tried to stop the steady stream of blood pouring form his nose.

"You're done talking," Castiel growled. He wasn't going to let this ma meddle in Dean's life anymore, good intentions or not. Castiel completely forgot about the pain he'd seen trapped in Sam's eyes, he only focused on the pain he saw trapped in _Dean's _eyes. Every _damn _day, Castiel had to watch Dean suffer whether it be from fear, or pain, or the need to belong. No more.

"I'm done listening to the _shit _that comes out of your mouth," Castiel seethed, throwing an exceptionally hard kick into his stomach, causing him to grunt and fall to one knee. Cas's foot hit him in the face this time, sprawling him onto his back. Castiel turned around, unable to look at that face, the face that had sneered at Dean as he whispered vulgar things in his ear. The face that had smiled as he threatened Dean.

Anna stood in the doorway to the kitchen, her face plastered with shock. She covered her mouth with her hand and Castiel saw her eyes flick behind him. Castiel turned just in time to be met in the stomach with a large, beefy fist. It plowed into his abdomen and he let out a startled grunt, his knees threatening to buckle. He looked up at Sam who wiped blood from his mouth.

"I loved him, too," Sam said, breathing hard.

"Sam! Stop!"

Sam and Castiel both turned to see Dean feeling his way blindly through the shop. Sam took a step forward as if to help him but Castiel growled and grabbed his pant leg, still hunched over from the blow to his stomach.

"Don't even think about it," he growled through clenched teeth as he tried to straighten up.

Dean bumped into Castiel, who wrapped his arms around the younger man, partially shielding him from Sam with his body. Blood ran down the gigantic man's chin and dripped onto his tan jacket.

"Dean." The way Sam said it, he didn't sound like the broken man he had only an hour before; he sounded like the old Sam, the one that had terrified Dean for three years.

Dean leant down and whispered in Cas's ear. "Let me talk to him, maybe I can make him go away. If he really loved me, he'll get the message." Dean kissed Castiel's cheek and stepped out of his arms.

"Sam. You can't keep doing this," Dean said, standing in front of Sam. "You're only making things harder on yourself."

Sam let out a short, humourless laugh. "Yeah, of course, because losing you was totally my fault."

"It was!" Dean exclaimed. Dean's hand moved to his sunglasses and he ripped them off, throwing them to the floor. He got in Sam's face and pointed to his own. "Do you see this? Do you _see_ what you did to me? I'm fucking blind because of you! You did this!" Dean screamed, Sam's face remaining a tight mask of barely controlled anger. He grabbed Dean's elbow roughly and jerked him around towards the front door.

"Dean!" Cas yelled. He scrambled forward and Sam turned and backhanded him hard. Cas stumbled into a bookrack, taking it with him as he fell to the floor, his head snapping back from the impact. He let out a shallow grunt and watched with shifty vision as Sam hauled a flailing Dean out the shop door.

Through the large glass front window, Castiel saw Sam try to shove Dean into his car. Castiel, finding his bearing s rather quickly, shot to his feet just as Dean broke away from Sam.

Castiel burst out the door and reached for Dean's elbow, his fingers scrabbling on the fabric of his Anorak as he ran forward. Right into the street.

* * *

><p><em>SCREECH!<em>

Dean heard the impact rather than felt it. The screeching of tires, the honking of a horn, the shouts of a dozen people. He wanted them to shut up, because his head was starting to hurt. And his back. And his chest and his legs and…dammit, why the fuck did he hurt so badly all of a sudden?

He tried to call out for Castiel and ask him what was going on, but nothing came out. Frustrated, he tried to move his aching limbs. That was when he heard it, Castiel's voice. He sighed in relief.

"Dean, baby, don't move. Oh, God, why? Why you? No, no, no, NO!" Castiel sounded like he was sobbing and Dean tried to lift his arms to hug the older man, but found he was still unable to move. He felt something heavy on his chest, a pushing. Then something was covering his mouth and something blasted into his lungs. He gasped. He hadn't realised how much he needed air until the rush of oxygen was pushed into his chest.

"Sir, we have to move him. Please, back away," an unfamiliar voice ordered.

"I'm coming with him. It's okay, I work at the hospital. Dr. Collins."

"Ah, yes, Dr. Collins."

Then Dean felt hands on his body and something placed over his neck that pressed into the underside of his chin. The sound of a siren wailed in his ear, making him want to cringe. Suddenly, he was lifted into the air and pain exploded all over his body, making his back arch and a strangled cry erupt from his throat. Well, at least he could move, even if it wasn't voluntary movement.

"Shh, shh, babe. It's going to be okay. It's all going to be okay," Castiel's voice was soothing in his ear.

Dean groaned as a stab of pain lanced through his head. "Caaaaassss…"

"Dean?"

Dean summoned up as much strength as he could and lifted his arm. His hand found Castiel's and he grasped it weakly, hating that he didn't know why he was so _weak_.

"I…love…you…" he murmured.

"I love you, too, beautiful."

"It hurtsssss…" Dean hissed as something burning hot wormed its way into his stomach.

"Go to sleep, Dean. It'll all be all right. We'll be at the hospital soon," Castiel urged, giving Dean's hand and gentle squeeze.

* * *

><p>Castiel watched as they rolled Dean into the ER, his broken body stuffed with tubes and needles, Dean wasn't going to like that, he hated needles.<p>

A hand on his shoulder made him turn around and come face to face with none-other than Sam Singer.

"Castiel, I-"

"You son of a _bitch_!" Cas shrieked. He launched himself at the taller man, tackling him to the floor. Sam head hit the linoleum, but Castiel didn't care. He wanted to see blood.

Castiel's fists slammed into Sam's face over and over and over again as he relentlessly and mercilessly gave him a taste of his own medicine. He wrapped his hands around his throat and squeezed hard, relishing in the feel of Sam's hands scrabbling uselessly at his fingers. He pressed harder and watched Sam's eyes slowly roll back into his head.

Distant shouts and then hands were hauling him off Sam.

"Let me go!" Castiel yelled.

"Castiel!"

"Uncle Cassy, stop!"

Cas turned his head to see Dane, Cael and Anna run into the room. Anna's dark hair was flying out of her messy bun and her glasses were in danger of falling to the floor.

"Get your hands off him, I can handle him," Anna ordered the security guards, who Castiel was still fighting against. When the guards looked at her questioningly, she scowled. "Now!" she yelled with that tone only a mother can possess. They dropped Cas's arms and backed away, but kept an eye on him.

"Castiel, you need to come sit down and calm down, right now."

Castiel saw Sam's retreating back as he headed out the door of the hospital. Cas stood up follow, but Anna pushed him back into one of the plastic chairs.

"I said, sit your ass down and calm the _fuck _down," Anna said, dangerously serious.

As Castiel looked up at her, something inside him broke. He said the one thing that had been on his mind since the car hit Dean.

"What if he doesn't make it?" Castiel whispered. The hot tears streamed down his face as he began to sob. He felt little arms wind their way around his waist and then two other sets joined the first as they all cried with him.

What if he doesn't make it?

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><p><strong>Holy <em>fuck<em>. I've just read this over and...shit. There's obviously something wrong with me. Well, *sigh*, you guys know the drill. **

**Reviews are accepted, not required, but loved. **

**Oh and would anyone like to do Fan Art for this story? I'd really like to see what you guys could come up with.**

**Shave Less, Braid More,  
>Dublin O'Malley<strong>

**XOXOX**


	14. Blink Twice For Yes

**The Innocent**

**Chapter 14: Blink Twice For Yes  
><strong>

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><p><strong>*Stares at reviews, blinks*<strong>

**Ladies and Gentlemen, we have hit 110 reviews! WOOT! WOOT! I love you all so much! And your reward will be TWO songs! :D Sucky reward, I know.**

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><p><strong>Song(s) of the Chapter:<strong>

**Love Don't Run- Steve Holy**

**See You Soon- Coldplay**

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><p>Castiel sat boneless in that cold plastic chair for what seemed like years. He was so tired, but he couldn't fall asleep, he wouldn't. He had to stay awake for Dean. He pulled out his cell phone and absently flipped through his pictures.<p>

Dean struggling to put his T-shirt on.

Dean smiling stupidly at a cartoon Cas hadn't seen in years. Ren and Stimpy.

He came to one of Dean trying to brush his teeth, the toothpaste running down his chin, a dripping toothbrush in hand. He clicked to the next one.

It was of him and Dean, Dean's arm thrown around his shoulders a huge smile on his face. Castiel's lips were pressed to his cheek, his right arm out of the shot so he could take the picture. He could just barely see the face of a giggling Caelan in the background, her hands over her mouth.

Cas smiled sadly, clutching his phone tightly.

_What if he doesn't pull through? _ said that aggravating voice in his mind.

_He will. God has given him enough shit to deal with, he'll pull through. _

_We'll see. _

"Dr. Collins?"

Castiel looked up into the face of an unfamiliar nurse. He must have been new.

"Would you please come with me?" he asked. Castiel stood and wordlessly followed him, thinking the worst and the best at the same time.

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><p>Dean groaned and shifted. Something pulled at his wrist and he opened his eyes. He was blinded by an unbelievably bright light. He tried to throw a hand over his eyes but found his arm too heavy to move. He turned his head to the side, keeping his eyes closed. Where the Hell was he?<p>

Then it hit him.

The screaming. The squealing tires. The horns. He'd been hit by a car.

The realization made him sit up abruptly in bed. His body erupted in flames and he gasped, his eyes popping open. He gasped again, but not from pain. He could _see_. He could actually see the nasty peach colour the walls were painted. He could see the light green of his hospital gown. Everything else was white but he didn't care, he could see everything.

The door at the far end of the room opening had him turning his head. A nurse walked in with a man behind him. He had disheveled, dark hair and he looked like he needed to shave. Dean admired the way the blue sweater he was wearing highlighted what had to be the bluest eyes he'd ever seen. The stranger approached the bed cautiously. He was absolutely stunning; it almost took Dean's breath away.

Dean didn't want to admit how beautiful this man was because he suddenly thought of Castiel. He wondered where he was.

"Dean?" asked the man.

_Oh, that voice_.

Dean would know it anywhere. _This _was Castiel? This absolutely beautiful man with rugged features?

"Cas…Castiel?" Dean asked uncertainly. Cas's face lit up with joy and Dean's heart swelled, knowing he was the one caused it.

Castiel nodded. "Yeah, Dean, it's me. Not what you expected?" Cas asked, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Come here," Dean said, holding out his seemingly weighted down hands. Castiel obliged and leant forward into Dean's hands, letting his jaw be cradled by the familiar and calloused fingers. Dean closed his eyes and ran his hands over that stubble coated face and through that silky hair. Dean huffed out a laugh.

"It's so much better than what I expected. Damn you, you're beautiful!" Dean said, pulling Castiel forward and into his chest, ignoring the stabs of pain in his ribs.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have an over exaggeration!" Castiel said into Dean's neck. Dean chuckled.

"Nope. And I'm glad you're the first thing I could see, Cas. Now can we call it love at first sight?" Dean asked, running a hand through Castiel's hair. Castiel made an appreciative sound in the back of his throat. The nurse looked at the two reunited men and stepped back out the door, figuring they needed a moment to be alone.

"So, who do you like more? Picasso or me?" asked Castiel, stroking Dean's cheek absently. Dean moved away for a moment and Castiel cocked his head. Then Dean patted the space beside him.

"Sit with me and I'll tell you," said Dean, arranging himself on the narrow hospital bed. Castiel hesitantly and carefully eased himself onto the bed beside Dean. He leant back against the pillows and clasped his and Dean's hands together. Dean pressed closer to him and rested his head on Castiel's shoulder.

"So…?" Castiel asked, watching their intertwined hands.

"Definitely you," Dean said, looking up from his place nestled in Cas's shoulder. He didn't think he would ever get enough of looking into those cerulean eyes that shone bright in the fast fading sunlight coming through the blinds.

Castiel rested his head against Dean's and smiled. "Good." He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "Do you think it's going to be different?"

Dean sighed and played with Castiel's fingers. "I don't know. I won't love you any less…but I might miss the two person showers," Dean admitted, a light blush dusting his cheeks as he buried his face in Castiel's neck.

"Mmm…" Castiel rumbled. "Who said they were going to go away?" Castiel turned his head to look at Dean, a lazy smile donning his lips. "Who knows, things may just get…better."

Dean smiled. "I'd like that." Dean stared up at Castiel's face, yet again captured by those blue orbs. He wanted to drown in them. He wanted to dive in and never come back up. His eyes were drawn to his slightly chapped, full lips. Dean had kissed those lips so many times, but he wondered if it was different when you could see. Was it better or was it the same? Would it not have the same mind-numbing effect? Dean wanted to know.

"Dean? You're staring," Castiel was saying. Dean looked up.

"Huh?"

"Exactly," Castiel grinned. "If you want to kiss me, all you have to do is ask." Castiel shifted so he could rest on one elbow. He brought their intertwined fingers to his lips and lightly kissed Dean's knuckles. Dean shuddered then groaned.

"Why do I have to be even _more _crippled?" he whined.

"Because it makes you adorable?" Castiel offered, leaning closer to Dean. "You know, Beautiful, I really want to kiss you right now," Castiel breathed, his eyes flicking to Dean's lips.

"So why don't you?" Dean whispered, his hands involuntarily clutching Castiel's sweater.

Castiel's lips were an inch away from Dean's when he smiled. "Because my sister is about to burst through that door in about three seconds and it may be a little awkward," Castiel said, pulling back just as the door exploded inward and Anna barreled through.

"Oh, Dean, thank GOD!" she threw her arms around him and Castiel both, nearly squeezing the life out of him.

"Anna…I can't…ow…breathe," Dean gasped. Anna stepped back.

"Oh!" she gasped. "I'm sorry! I didn't hurt you, did I?" Her hands fluttered at her chest, total motherly panic attack in full swing. Castiel put an arm around her frail shoulders.

"Annie, calm down. Slow," he said. "He just got hit by a car and lived; we don't need you to crush him to death." Anna gulped large breaths and eventually her pupils turned down a couple thousand dilations. She smiled and reached up to tie her frazzled hair back into its equally frazzled bun.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Dean. Just glad you're alive. So is Caelan. Cael! You can come in now, Sweetie!" Ana yelled. Caelan barreled into the room, a flash of pink and silver and glitter before she was pouncing on the two of them.

"Uncle Cassy! Dean! The doctors said they couldn't tell me what happened!" she cried into Dean's shoulder. He patted her back and murmured nonsense things in her ear.

"Dean?"

They all turned to see Dane leaning against the wall, his glasses in his hand, his little face holding a solemnity that a six year shouldn't be able to possess.

"Dane, come here, Buddy," Dean said, patting the space beside him. Dane felt along the wall and then forward until he bumped into the bed. He hesitantly climbed onto the space at Dean's feet.

"Is it okay if I sit right here?" asked Dane, playing idly with the knitted blanket that covered Dean's legs.

"Of course, little man."

Dane was silent for a moment, his face pulled into a thoughtful expression. "Does this mean we can't be friends anymore?" Dane's lower lip wobbled, and then stiffened like he was trying not to cry.

"What? No! I mean, of course we can still be friends. Come here, buddy." Dane crawled up into Dean's waiting, cast covered, arm and pressed hesitantly into his side. Dean rubbed Dane's back and Castiel had to hold back the 'awwww' that was threatening to fall from his mouth as he watched his niece and nephew snuggle into Dean's sides like they'd known him their whole lives.

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><p>"Easy, easy-!"<p>

"Dean! Stop squirming!"

"It tickles! Knock it off, Cas!"

Dean squirmed as Cas wrapped the stitches on his foot. It had been two weeks since Dean's discharge from the hospital. He'd been given what he liked to call his 'Gift Basket of Happiness' because it held more painkillers than Castiel had ever seen and they made him feel oh-so happy.

"Dean, I swear, if you kick me in the shin one more time-"

"Hey, boys!" They both turned as Anna entered the room, Cael and Dane running around her to sit beside Dean, who hugged them both and began explaining to them what Cas was doing to his foot. As Cas lifted Dean's leg to start strapping on the boot, Dean hissed. It still hurt, even after a few weeks. A practically shattered tibia and a completely rotated fibula, they told him he may never walk the same again. But he wasn't worried; at least he'd have Castiel to lean on.

While Dean was quietly contemplating, Castiel was sweating like crazy. He was so nervous; he thought his skull might cave in from all the possible outcomes his actions might bring. The object of his uneasiness was nestled into the front pocket of his dark jeans, feeling like it weighed as much as a school bus driven by an overweight driver.

Cas strapped the last of the boot onto Dean's leg and grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet. Cas gulped at the warmth of Dean's hand on his forearm and the pressure of his fingers holding tightly onto Castiel's as he wobbled unsteadily. Castiel looked over at Anna who nodded and ushered the kids into the kitchen.

Castiel led him and Dean down the hall, past the bedroom Dean had only slept in once since he'd arrived, and into Castiel's room. Dean looked at Castiel.

"What's wrong?" Dean placed his hand on Cas's cheek, brushing his thumb softly across his slightly chapped lips. Something was worrying Castiel.

Cas placed his hand over Dean's and smiled. "Nothing. Here, let me help you onto the bed."

"The bed?" Dean asked, confused, but still let Castiel lead him over to the bed and help him swing his bad leg over the side. Dean sat back against the dark blue comforter and folded his hands in his lap. Castiel stood awkwardly at the edge of the bed, looking everywhere but at Dean.

"Cas, you okay?" asked Dean, reaching for Castiel with his semi-good hand. Cas stepped back and ran a hand through his hair. He sighed.

"Not really." Castiel let out a shaky laugh. "If I told you to close your eyes and not open them, would you?"

Dean's eyebrows rose. He gestured to himself. "Cas, I'm a little out of commission right now."

"No, no, not anything like that. Just…close your eyes and don't open them until I tell you to, okay?" Cas said. Dean shrugged and closed his eyes.

"Whatever you say, Picasso." Cas smiled at that and stuck his hand in his pocket, feeling the small suede box. He pulled it out of his pocket and dropped to his knees. He felt under the bed for the card; the card that could mean life and death…or 'no' and 'yes'. He pulled it out, a small white card, no embroidery, no flowers, and only one sentence.

Castiel held the card carefully in his hand and stood. He approached the bed again and sat on the edge.

"You can open your eyes now," Castiel said, grasping Dean's hand. Dean opened his eyes and smiled up at Cas.

"So, what's got you all sweaty?" Dean asked.

"Dean."

"Yeah?"

"You know how much you mean to me, right?"

"Of course," Dean replied.

Castiel looked away and drew meaningless patterns on the comforter. "You know that you're my world. That every day I wake up and everything's okay, just because I see you? Because I get to hold you and sleep beside you and make you laugh?"

"Cas-?"

"Wait a moment, please." Castiel paused and breathed deeply. "I have this two part plan going on, and here's the first." Castiel handed Dean the card and held his breathe as he opened it.

Inside, in Castiel's tilting, chicken-scratch handwriting, were these words:

_How would you like to eat breakfast, lunch and dinner with me every morning for the rest of our lives?  
>How would you like to share secrets under the stars?<br>How would you like to fight over small things that don't matter and then feel sorry about it later?  
>How would you like to spend the rest of your life with me?<em>

As Dean read the card with eyes that were blurring with tears, Castiel slipped from the side of the bed and onto one knee. Dean turned his head to see a very frightened, nervous and determined Castiel. Castiel's eyes were filling with tears as well. Dean's heart thudded in is chest as he tried to comprehend what was happening.

"Dean, I know I've only known you for a short while, but I can't imagine living without you and I don't know how I managed to do it before, but…I'd like to grow old with you. I know it's cheesy, but my heart belongs to you now, whether you say yes or no. So…what I'm saying is…"

Castiel gulped. Dean bit his lip and wondered why his heart hadn't broken through his ribcage and run into Castiel's arms yet.

"Dean Winchester, will you marry me?"

The whole world stood still. Every bird stopped singing, every car stopped moving, every person on the planet ceased to make a sound. As they waited for the one word that could change everything.


	15. Senseless Falling

**Hello, my lovelies! Well, about there being only one or two chapters left…forget about it. My Muse came back from the Bahamas and has given me a deliciously evil idea for about five or six more chapters…Oh, and I'm just going to post songs that helped me write the chapters, so you'll always get more than one now. BEWARE; there be SMUT this chapter ;)**

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><p><strong>The Innocent<strong>

**Chapter 15: Senseless Falling**

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><p><strong>Songs of the Chapter:<br>Between- Courrier  
>Breathe Again- Sara Bareilles<br>Your Ghost- Greg Laswell**

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><p>There's something about silence that makes you think the worst-and the best- a the same time.<p>

Dean's silence was all Castiel needed to hear.

He bowed his head and moved to snap the ring box shut. A hand on his wrist stopped him. Castiel looked up into the smiling, tear streaked face of Dean. His bright green eyes were the most vibrant he'd ever seen them. Before Cas knew what was happening, he was being pulled up by the collar of his T-shirt and into Dean's arms. He let out a soft 'oof' as Dean crushed him in a hug that surprisingly didn't break his spine. Dean was shaking in his arms, sobbing silently into his shoulder. Castiel pulled away slightly and looked down at Dean, desperation evident in his voice.

"Will you marry me, Dean?"

Dean's throat seized up, a lump the size of a grapefruit forming in his throat. He looked up into the impossibly blue eyes of Castiel-_ his _Castiel, and the decision was made for him.

"Y-yes-s," stuttered Dean, barely choking the words out before a fresh flow of tears rained down. They splashed on Castiel's hands that were holding Dean's face. Dean was so scared at that moment, that maybe this was all some cruel dream and he would wake up to another day of Sam. That maybe Castiel wasn't real and just a figment of his imagination because, in all honesty, Castiel was his _perfect _guy. He was the one Dean dreamed about in high school. He was the man he wished Sam could be. Loving, kind, caring, and he didn't put up with his shit either.

"Thank God. For a second there, I thought you would say no," Castiel said, smiling down at Dean as he ran a hand through the younger man's hair.

"Why the Hell would I do that?" he exclaimed.

Castiel climbed onto the bed beside Dean, pressing close into his side, his hand resting on Dean's stomach. "I don't know…because of me? All the shit you're going to have to put up with. You saw me; I was completely out of control. I just didn't think you'd want to deal with that." Castiel couldn't look at Dean, the thought of him actually saying no made him feel sick. "I thought you would leave me," he added in a voice just above a whisper.

Dean cocked his head to the side. "Don't ever say that again. If you do, I will rip out your vocal cords. I will _never _leave you, Castiel Collins. You've had to deal with all my shit, so why would I leave you if you didn't leave me? Sometimes, I wonder how I managed to snag you. You're everything I've dreamt about in a man…"Dean trailed off and looked down at Castiel as his boyfriend kissed his neck lightly. "You're fucking beautiful Cas, and you don't even know it. You're funny, you're sweet, you are a _fantastic _kisser and best of all, you're _you_. You're Castiel James Collins and I couldn't have asked for more."

Castiel looked up at Dean, the words finally sinking in. He pushed his glasses up his nose and Dean stopped him. Dean's calloused fingers brushed his cheeks as he removed Cas's glasses, setting them on the bedside table next to the bed. Dean grasped the hand that was idly rubbing his stomach and moved it lower, watching Castiel's face, seeing if he would say no. He didn't.

Castiel didn't know if it was the lust blown pupils that Dean turned on him, or the fact that he had said yes, but Castiel took the hint and placed his hand atop the growing bulge in the front of Dean's sweatpants. Dean groaned, his hand tightening atop Castiel's. Castiel marveled at the sight of Dean, head thrown back, mouth slightly parted, breathing heavily through his nose. He gently cupped the front of Dean's pants, eliciting another moan and a breathy '_Cas…'_

He pressed his palm down harder, rubbing slightly. Castiel's own breathing was beginning to speed up, his jeans growing tighter and more uncomfortable. Dean bit his lip and guided Castiel's hand faster, his hips bucking off the bed.

Castiel's hand dipped into the waist band of Dean's boxer briefs, pushing the material aside. Dean panted as Castiel exposed him, feeling his stomach clench and unclench in response to Cas's ministrations.

Cas stroked him leisurely, slowly- torturously. He thumbed the sensitive tip, lightly dipping his thumbnail into the slit, causing Dean to gasp loudly, arching off the bed. Castiel covered Dean's mouth with his own, didn't need Anna coming there, right? Awkward. After all, this had been all been her idea.

They hadn't talked much about the sex factor; just did what felt good at the moment. But with Dean's leg in a boot and most of his body bandaged, they had to be careful. They settled for this.

"C-Cas- Ah!" Dean was bucking wildly, thrusting into Castiel's fist, moaning wantonly. "I-I need t-to touch-ch you…now!" Dean practically barked. His hands yanked clumsily at Castiel's belt, fumbling to undo the buckle. Castiel brushed Dean's hands aside and swiftly removed his belt, carefully unzipping his jeans. He gasped as he was freed from the confinement of his jeans. Dean glanced at Castiel and groaned.

"No-No underwear?" he moaned.

Castiel smirked. "Nope." Castiel's hand tightened around Dean as those calloused fingers found his neglected erection. Castiel nearly collapsed with how _good _it felt. It wasn't enough, for either one of them, but this was as good as they were getting until Dean was completely healed.

Castiel heard the radio he kept in his kitchen turned way up and would have laughed at Anna's thoughtfulness if he weren't in his current position. Castiel looked down at Dean and nearly came at the sight of him. His stubble dusted cheeks were flushed, his lips swollen and his free hand clenching and unclenching the comforter.

"Fuck…you're gorgeous," Castiel gasped, Dean's hand picking up the pace. Castiel couldn't stand it, he dropped down and claimed Dean's mouth as he swung his legs over Dean's thighs and straddled him, earning a surprised grunt from Dean. Dean's tongue pushed into Cas's mouth as the older man ground against him.

"Ah…Cas, mmph! Oh my god," rambled Dean as he brought his hips up to meet Castiel's, rutting their cocks together like two teenagers in the backseat of a car. Castiel buried his face into Dean's neck, breathing in the scent of sweat, arousal and what can only be described as 'Dean'.

"You know," Castiel breathed into the skin where Dean's neck and shoulder met. "This makes me think about that time in the car. I wanted you so badly right then." Cas licked a stripe up Dean's neck, biting just hard enough to leave a mark, but soft enough to not hurt. That mark said 'Property of Castiel'.

And that did for Dean. Castiel's words tossed him over the precipice of bliss that he had been clinging to by his fingertips. He gave one last, desperate thrust against Cas and he was a goner.

"Dean!" Castiel whispered roughly and jerked as his own _le petite mort _crashed over him in a wave of lust and pleasure. He collapsed onto Dean's chest, immediately nuzzling his cheek into Dean's neck.

After they both were able to form coherent sentences, Dean spoke.

"Oh my God. That was…amazing and…_damn_," Dean groaned, rubbing Castiel's back. Castiel hummed in agreement. He sat up and yanked his T-shirt over his head, using it to clean of himself and Dean. He tossed it into the laundry basket and lay back down beside Dean, throwing an arm across his waist.

"I agree," said Castiel, looking up at Dean. Cas smiled. They rested in comfortable silence for a few minutes. "You know, I'm glad you said yes," Castiel said into Dean's side.

"I am, too," Dean said, kissing the top of Castiel's head. "After all, I _do_ love you."

"Hey, Dean?"

"Mmm?"

"Why didn't you tell me Sam raped you?" The question was quiet, concerned. Dean stiffened and closed his eyes against the onslaught of memories that were suddenly trying to suffocate him.

His arms tightened around Castiel, like he never wanted to let him go. Truth be told, he didn't. he wanted Castiel to stay by his side forever, stay in his arms forever. Because if Dean let him get away, he'd completely lose his mind.

"I was scared. I thought you would think I was some whore for letting him do that kind of thing to me. I wasn't clean. I didn't have the chance to 'save myself' for someone special." Dean looked away from Cas, head down, fiddling with a strap on his boot. Castiel's eyebrows drew together.

"What? Did you really think that would matter to me? That I would actually care? I don't. You're pure, Dean. You're the sweetest, most innocent man I've ever met and I don't know what I did to deserve you. Ever since I saw you lying on that hospital bed, I knew you'd be the one that would change my life forever." Castiel reached into the pocket. "Now, let's do this right."

Castiel slipped off the bed, still shirtless, and got down on one knee. Dean leaned over the edge and smiled down at him. Castiel opened the ring box and extracted the ring. It was a simple silver band. Inside it had an engraving that read: _Picasso + Cripple=Forever. Love you, Dean._

Castiel took Dean's left hand in his own. "Dean Winchester, I'd like to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"

Dean smirked. "Stupid question, Cas." Castiel looked down at Dean's hand, Jensen's ring on his ring finger. Dean noticed and sighed. He reached under his shirt and pulled out a small chain adorned with a dog tag, a pop can tab and a strange looking amulet. Dean unclasped the ball-hook in the back and set the chain in his lap. He twisted the ring on his finger before slowly pulling it off. He looped the chain through the silver ring and re-clasped the ball-hook, pulling the chain over his head where it thumped against his chest. "It's time to move on, anyway," sighed Dean.

"Dean."

Dean looked up to see Castiel fiddling with his ear. There was a small pop and Castiel showed him what was in his hand. It was an earring.

"Your ears are pierced?"

"Yes, but only in one ear and I've only ever worn one earring. This was my mother's. If you can move on, then I can, too. Now, give me your hand." Dean obliged and Castiel slipped the ring on Dean's finger, right over the tan line he'd gotten from Jensen's ring.

Castiel clasped their hands together, fingers fitting perfectly to each other, and placed then on his bare chest, over his heart.

_A Few hours Later…_

Dean pressed his back closer to Castiel's stomach, spooning him like there was no tomorrow. Castiel was humming quietly in his ear, and he liked the sound of the little tune. It reminded him of a lullaby, the way it made his eyelids droop and a lazy smile curve his lips.

"Hey, Cas?"

"Mmm, yes, Dean?"

"What's that song you're humming?" To Castiel, Dean sounded like a curious child-an adorable curious child.

"An old lullaby my mother used to sing to me. After she died I sang it to myself every night because I was always alone and I thought if I sang it, she would hear me up in Heaven. It's an old Russian lullaby called '_Cossack Lullaby'_." Castiel rubbed Dean's side soothingly, making his eyelids even heavier.

"Could…could you sing it to me? I used to sing '_I'll Love You Forever and Forever My Baby You'll Be _like my mom did, but I stopped when…Jensen died," said Dean, burying his face into Castiel's arm.

"Of course I'll sing for you, Dean." Castiel's arms tightened around Dean as one hand sifted softly through his hair. He moved his mouth over Dean's ear and began to sing softly.

_"Sleep, good boy, my beautiful,  
>Bayushki bayu,<br>Quietly the moon is looking  
>Into your cradle.<br>I will tell you fairy tales  
>And sing you little songs,<br>But you must slumber,  
>with your little eyes closed,<br>Bayushki bayu._

_"The time will come, then you will learn  
>The pugnacious life,<br>Boldly you'll stem your foot into the stirrup  
>And take the gun.<br>The saddle-cloth for your battle horse  
>I will sew you from silk.<br>Sleep now, my dear little child,  
>Bayushki bayu.<em>

_"You will look like a hero  
>And be a Cossack deep in your heart.<br>I will hurry to accompany you;  
>You will just wave your hand<br>How many secret bitter tears  
>Will I shed that night!<br>Sleep, my angel,  
>calmly,<br>sweetly,_

_Bayushki bayu."_

Dean's soft snores vibrated through Castiel's chest as he finished the song. He ran his hand one last time through Dean's hair before kissing his temple.

"_Ya lyublyu tebya. Spakoynay nochee_, Dean."

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><p>Anna peeked her head cautiously through the bedroom door, prepared to see the worst. Instead, she saw Cas and Dean sleeping soundly, Dean's back pressed to Castiel's bare chest (she didn't want to know where his shirt went). She saw the ring box lying on the dresser and smiled, noticing it was empty.<p>

She was glad her big brother had found someone, because even though she hadn't seen him in over a decade, she'd known him to be alone quite a lot. Her memories were fuzzy, but she knew her brother and she knew that marrying Dean would be good for him.

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><p><strong>Hey, everyone! I'm learning Russian and I don't know…Jimmy's last name in SPN is Novak, which is Russian (obviously) so I decided to sort of…incorporate? that into this chapter. Does that make sense? Whatever, screw you people, it makes sense to me and that's all that matters! O:<strong>

**Translations:   
><em>Ya lyublyu tebya- I love you<br>Spakoynay nochee- Good night_**

**_Oh and Bayushki bayu is not really a word, more like slang like…bro and I don't know…bleh, the Russian language tends to mind fuck you! O:_**

**I wen thome early from school today :D Yay! No math test for meeee! *sings and does a crazy happy/bordering-psychotic dance***

**Reviewwwwww, my lovelies! **

**Shave Less, Braid More,  
>Dublin O'Malley<strong>

XOXOX


	16. Drabbles YES or NO?

**Because I am a total tease, I'm not updating for a bit. I had a bit of a small breakthrough for this story though. Anyway, that's not what I'm here for. I have decided I will start posting SPN drabbles, namely Destiel fics. They won't be too long, and it will give you all something to read while you wait for my ADHD induced procrastination to stop being such a bitch. Though I must warn you, I have a pretty fucked up brain when it comes to titles so...yeah just warning you is all. **

**In Example:**

**-Pomegranate Window**

**-Whale Shaped Butterflies**

**-Hooked a Boot**

**-Innocence? What Innocence?**

**-Pink Plastic Jesus**

**-Ease Up, Pretty Boy**

**-13 Inch Ruler**

**-Cown-tree Moosic **

**-Flappers of the 00s**

**Uhm so...yeah.**

**Shave Less, Braid More**

**Dublin O'Malley**

**XOXOX**


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